Affair
by J.A.K
Summary: It’s November of Harry’s seventh year and he and Tonks have been sleeping together since the end of his sixth. With Tonks being the new DADA teacher, everything about their relationship speaks of scandal and affair.
1. Capter One

**Author**: J.A.K.

**Rating**: R

**Author's Notes**: This story starts in the middle of Tonks and Harry's relationship. There will be a few flashbacks alluding to situations and events that happened in the past between the two, but I felt it best to start here because the crux of this story lies in them _being_ together not in how they _came_ to be together. I also wanted to warn everyone that this is a darker Harry; less like the one written in books 1 through 4 and more like the Harry written in book 5.

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**Chapter One**

It was wrong. It went against the moral code of conduct that had been etched in stone since the beginning of formal education, restricting how familiar a teacher and student could become. The issue, if ever it arose, was black and white. Harry shrugged however, knowing to himself that most people referred to things as 'black and white' not realizing that the term was just a more convoluted way of saying grey.

He watched, with minor traces of a smile forming on his lips, as the woman who was currently his lover, walked up and down the small stage of space that was especially made for teacher's who liked to lecture while pacing.

Pacing.

A verb set aside for enthusiastic professor's; professor's who couldn't present their points—of whatever subject they were discussing to the class—in a seat, but had to stand and move in order to convey what the correct flick of one's wrist looked like, or reenact an event that happened hundreds of years ago.

Right now Tonks wasn't pacing because she was overly keen about the topic she was talking about, but rather, because of the way his eyes had refused to leave hers since he'd entered the room.

It was a little game he'd felt like playing today. How long could she remain cool while he watched her with a stare that he knew said: I want you.

Balance was not one of her strong points. In fact, many who had ever been graced by her presence, had labeled her clumsy. But when Nymphadora Tonks stepped in front of the classroom, possession of every limb, stroke, and movement was hers.

As time wore on, however, and as she tried to look everywhere but at him, he knew he had finally won his game when she called for a two minute break. There were no eyebrows raised at the sudden interruption in lecture. Instead, everyone felt break's like these to be customary by now, and fell into their usual routines. People broke off into pairs of two's and three's and tried to repeat what they'd just been implicitly told to do.

He, however, took this as his chance to see what Tonks was up to. Walking towards the doorway, Harry was unprepared for Hermione's sudden ambush.

"Where are you off to Harry?" He'd known that she was present in class, along with Ron and a fraction of those who had made it to this level of Defense Against the Dark Arts training; but this was the first time he'd actually spoken to her since the day began—too anxious was he to get to his first and only enjoyable class of the day. Her arms were folded against her chest and her tone was whispered. The look of suspicion in her eye alerted Harry that he needed to be careful of how he responded. Hermione was too smart and perceptive a friend for him to be anything less than careful.

"I have to use the bathroom," He tried to put on his best annoyed face, "Is that okay by you?"

Her eyes narrowed even more and she moved closer to him, talking with a conspirator's tone while she held his elbow and led them to a secluded corner of the classroom.

"Do you think I haven't noticed how you follow her practically every time she leaves the room for one of her "breaks?" She held her fingers up and made a quotation sign around the aforementioned word. Her eyes searched his, and he purposely kept it _and_ his face as blank and confused as possible.

Harry folded his arms against his chest.

"What are you going on about _this_ time Hermione?" His voice sounded exasperated, and though he knew the chances of this happening were slim to none, he hoped with a rushed sense of fervor that she would back off.

Harry watched her as she watched him, and saw when her eyes left his and moved to meet Ron's. His gaze was simple to catch because he was easily the tallest person in the classroom. Ron looked as if he were silently questioning her. His eyebrows were raised and he made a subtle gesture that pointed in Harry's direction. Hermione shook her head and centered her attention back on him.

So…they were in on it together. This was something they had previously discussed. This was a planned intervention. Harry felt a glimmer of his resolve crack under Hermione's accusatory eyes.

_This_ was no freaking good, was what it was. They _knew_; they just wanted him to admit it to them so they could verify how much they knew.

"Harry—" she began again, but he cut her off.

He bent his head near her ear, as he too had gradually become considerably taller since the end of fourth year, and whispered tightly:

"What do you want me to say?" Harry leaned back and stared directly into her eyes "So _what_?" He leaned even further back and moved, so that they were shoulder to shoulder and that he was facing the door. "Because whatever you have to tell me, I'm just going to tell _you_, so…fucking…what."

Harry heard her gasp in surprise at his choice of words, and he felt a twinge of regret. Hermione truly was one of his best friends and he had hated not telling her something so important to him for so long; but for all the feelings of regret that he was experiencing, they were really, only a twinge.

He was Harry freaking Potter after all, the Boy who lived; the boy who'd had his life mapped out for him before he'd had a chance to live it. Well, his relationship with Tonks wasn't one of those things that simply fell into line. One that was written next to the part where it said that he would weaken Voldemort, allow himself to be used by the entire wizarding community, and then kill Voldemort.

Since Sirius's death he'd been numb with pain. He had eventually moved on from the pain, and instead of being just numb, he was numb _and_ unimpressed by life.

Tonks had made a difference, though. She'd left and was still leaving a large impression on his life; when he was with her, he wasn't dead inside.

But _they_ wouldn't get that. They would _never_ understand what it took to be him…Harry Potter. They would _never_ understand how much this relationship meant to him.

What they _would_ do, instead, was ask him if he was in love, and for that, he wouldn't have an answer, because love wasn't important here; and they would never _ever_ understand that. They would never understand that the only thing that truly mattered was that Tonks was good for him because she, very simply, made him _feel_.

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**AN 2**: Should I continue? I mean I just had this idea after my sister told me about her thoughts for her fanfic, so the whole thing was written on the spur of the moment. Let me know; if not, it can be a cute one-shot, right? By the way, if I do carry on, this will become a rather involved story. Thanks for reading. 

**Remember**: Embrace the ship of Tonks and Harry forever!!!


	2. Chapter Two

**Author**: J.A.K.

**Rating**: R

**Author's Notes**: This story starts in the middle of Tonks and Harry's relationship. There will be a few flashbacks alluding to situations and events that happened in the past between the two, but I felt it best to start here because the crux of this story lies in them _being_ together not in how they _came_ to be together. I also wanted to warn everyone that this is a darker Harry; less like the one written in books 1 through 4 and more like the Harry written in book 5.

**AN 2**: Wow! I didn't expect to get so many positive responses from you guys (thanks SO MUCH for each and every last review). I officially think it's safe to say that this fic is a keeper. So with that said: enjoy the story! **Wait**…before you start enjoying anything, beware of the fact that **Harry is 17 years old** and has grown a little, and has possibly even changed a bit from the carefree Harry we've known for sometime now. He's got a shit load of burdens pressing down on him, some of which he might not feel obligated to carry out. That's just some food for thought. _Now_ you can enjoy the story!

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Chapter Two **

It wasn't until class ended and all the students had left the room that Harry found an opportunity to talk at length with Tonks. Studying her now, he saw that she had taken off her wizarding robe and had flung it haphazardly across the back of her chair. The Muggle pant suit she wore in place of her robes didn't surprise him as she, out of all the witches and wizards he'd become acquainted with (besides Hermione), seemed to have a strange affinity with non-magical life.

Today her hair was a short dark brown that was styled back and away from her face. There was no sunlight in the room, but something about her features exuded a type of sheen that made her skin glow fiercely.

Only when silence continued to linger between the two of them for countless more seconds did she stop cleaning the countertops from its various spills and acknowledge his presence.

"You can't keep watching me like that while I'm teaching, Harry." Her eyes fixed steadily on his, and held a hint of severity hidden beneath the surface. "I can't focus on what I'm saying, I can't…" she bowed her head for a moment and then sighed, catching his gaze again. "I can't look anywhere but at you." Her voice was even as it spoke. "Your friends aren't foolish Harry. They know something's happening with you," she stepped closer to him, glancing briefly at the locked door, "It'll only take one slip between the two of us before they realize what's truly going on."

He turned his back on her and sat on one of the many desks that surrounded him, crossing his feet at the ankles. There was no sound in the room as he regarded her silently from where he was. She watched him with imploring eyes, perhaps wordlessly begging him to curb his reckless attitude: 'an attitude that seemed to have a blatant disregard for order.' He was certain that those were the words that were running through her head because he knew the speech all too well. After all, he'd heard it countless times before; just never from her. In a way that was strange to him, her position felt a small bit like betrayal and he very quickly gained the sensation of his back being pressed against a wall. The feeling made his defenses stand on edge.

Harry shrugged his shoulders unconcernedly.

"Ron and Hermione already know what's going on between the two of us."

The look that flashed across her face might have been comical if the matter wasn't so serious. She dropped her hands which had become folded during the interim of silence, and made three quick strides to stand in front of him. Harry watched her with slightly narrowed eyes as obvious shock and anxiety filtered her system.

"What do you mean they know?" Tonks almost couldn't believe what she was hearing. "How _long_ have they known." She didn't miss the fact that his demeanor had become defensive and slightly petulant.

Harry rolled his eyes and looked at the ceiling trying to appear as unaffected as possible.

"I don't _know_ how long they've known." He focused his gaze on the woman standing before him before he continued "It doesn't really matter though." With that said he stood on his feet prepared to make his way around her and leave.

Tonks narrowed her eyes and tilted her head so that he could experience the full effect of her glare.

"What do you mean it doesn't really matter?" She pressed her hand against his chest when he looked over her shoulder and attempted to pass her. "Were you planning on telling me about this?"

Harry felt a surge of irritation rush through his veins. He had only found out about this information less than an hour ago, and he'd been planning on telling her as soon as class had finished. He stepped back looking down at her angry face.

"Should I have told you the news before or after you bitched me out about 'watching you while you were teaching?'" His voice rose to a falsetto pitch on the last words of his statement.

Tonks sighed and cast her stare downwards, collecting herself before she said the wrong things to him. She knew that Harry could be difficult when he wanted to be and she also knew that, for whatever reason, he was purposely being more difficult than the situation called for. Right now, what the situation required was his cooperation, as her own nerves were bent by the idea of their affair being revealed to the entire wizarding world. She took another deep breath before she brought her eyes up to meet his.

"Harry I didn't say you couldn't watch me while I taught, I simply—" She cut herself off realizing that no further explanation was needed. He understood what she had been trying to say, he was just being deliberately ignorant. "The more important thing now is the fact that _you_ didn't feel it necessary to tell _me_ that your friends know that we've been—"

This time it was Harry who cut her off, his voice rising over hers.

"I found out during _this_ class, alright, as in less than _one_ hour ago." He gave her a slightly disgusted look and took a wide step to the right to get around her body.

She watched the back of his robes walk away from her for a few still seconds before moving to grab his arm.

"Do you imagine me to be some kind of a mind reader now?" Her own words were said in a hushed tone that was fraught with irritation. He whirled around with a speed that seemed almost unnatural, but was fueled heavily by anger.

"I don't know Tonks, you're the mighty Auror, _you're_ the one that's been teaching me occlumency for _more_ than a year; you tell me." Harry watched as a hue of pink surfaced on her cheeks and instantly felt like an ass for even allowing the matter to develop into the argument it was now. She stepped back from him and it seemed as if her whole body deflated right before his eyes.

She focused her gaze on his face and stared at him intently.

"Harry, I'm not trying to attack you."

He nodded his head in consent, moving closer to her while reaching out with his arms to rest his hands on her shoulders.

"I know that, it's just…" Tonks placed her palm on his cheek, caressing it lightly before moving her hand down to rest it on the nape of his neck where her fingers sifted gingerly through the strands that lay there.

"Stress, Harry. We all get it." Harry nodded his head again, knowing that his reaction didn't come purely from stress, but not wanting to talk further on the issue. He moved his hands down so that they rested on her waist and pulled her body up against his.

Her eyes closed involuntarily as he un-tucked the back of her shirt from her pants while his fingers slowly slipped underneath her shirt. His hands seemed to be tracing some sort of invisible pattern as he gently rubbed the skin that made up the small of her back. Harry leisurely kissed the corners of her mouth before kissing her directly on the lips. There was a half-smile on his mouth when she moved her other arm to encircle his neck and pull his head closer to hers.

Engaged wholly by the act of parting her lips with his tongue, he was slightly surprised when she pulled away from him before he got a chance to deepen the kiss.

"Harry you should go to your next class."

Harry silently contemplated that notion for half of a second before deciding that what he did now had way more satisfying results than going to a class that forced him to endure Snape's presence for a little over two hours.

His decision was made.

Tonks felt surprise run through her body as Harry lifted her slightly off of the ground and placed her on the desk he had been sitting on less than a minute ago.

There was a small grin on his face as his fingers reached for the front of her blouse and undid the first of several buttons that secured her top. She reached for his hand, stopping it before it could make its way further down.

"What are you doing?" She asked, her breath coming in short huffs, as his antics were having what could be seen as equally positive and negative effects on her.

He smiled thinking that she should know exactly what he was doing.

Harry brought both of his palms to either side of her face and stared at her intensely for countesses seconds while his focus shifted from her eyes to her lips and back again to her eyes. He allowed his thumbs to stroke her cheeks languidly before leaning in to kiss the skin that was exposed on the side of her neck. Skillfully concentrating on that area for some time, he finally heard the sound that he'd been waiting to hear all day.

Tonks knew that she wasn't setting a good example by allowing him to—as clichéd as it sounded—have his way with her, but the sensations that his tongue was creating against her neck overrode all rational thought. She moved her head back so that he could have better access to a spot that Harry had very quickly found out to be her erogenous zone.

Harry knew that once he heard her moan his name, all thoughts about going to class, on both their parts, were gone. He slowly moved away from her neck and placed his hands on her waist so that he could move in between her legs.

"I'm sorry," He said, watching her intently as his fingers once again set upon the familiar task of unbuttoning her shirt.

Argument already forgotten, Tonks threw him a confused look as she glanced over his shoulder, making sure once again that the door was indeed locked. The last thing they needed was a professor catching them in such a compromising situation; or even worse…a student. The tabloids would be filled with his or her interview that would no doubt expound in great detail about how they found Harry Potter and their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor in an intimate position.

Harry noticed her sudden switch in attention and knew where her gaze had wandered off to. He wasn't concerned by the door, however, remembering that he had foreseen their exchange, and had taken measure to make sure there would be no unexpected spectators to what they were about to do.

He gently tugged the rest of her shirt out of her pants and reached for the last few closed buttons that remained. Harry watched as her breath quickened with both anticipation and excitement. Kissing her briefly but deeply, he pulled the shirt from around her shoulders, helping her to pull her wrists through the cuffs.

"I'm sorry for being such an ass." He said sincerely, throwing the shirt on the floor next to them. Lightly squeezing the sides of her waist, he pulled her securely against him, enjoying the feel of her body pressed so closely to his. One of his hands ran up the narrow expanse of her back and toyed with the clasp of her bra teasingly.

Harry knew that he had acquired a need to have the last word in any argument. But he could admit to himself that sometimes he pushed too hard; and _that_ was simply not acceptable when it same to the person sitting before him.

"You don't deserve that," he said, moving his other hand so that it rested on the underside of her thigh.

Tonks knew what they were doing was wrong. It was wrong for the most basic reasons, but also because this was a classroom; and the thing underneath her was a desk; and they were about to have mind blowing sex on that very same desk.

She watched as he waited for her to respond to his statement.

Winding her fingers around his neck and up through the messy strands of his hair, she opened her mouth to respond, but was cut short by a knock on the door.

They both stood, frozen in each others arms, as silence mercilessly greeted them.

"Professor, is Harry in there?"

Harry knew that voice.

That was Ron's voice.

He distanced himself from the woman that was in front of him and looked, a bit anxiously, from her to the door as she hurriedly put herself back together.

Tonks' entire body was flushed with nervousness. She quickly shooed Harry out of her way and stood by the door, putting her hand on the lock.

"Tonks, I know Harry is in there with you," he paused unsure of what he could say that would convince them of his good intentions "I'm just trying to spare him another unexcused lateness to Snape's class, that's all."

That made Tonks throw a disapproving look at Harry, as she had forgotten that he had potions—of all classes—next; if she _had_ remembered, she would never have allowed him to stay with her for so long.

Harry merely shrugged his shoulders at her glance and looked down.

Tonks shook her head, turning back to the situation at hand, and opened the door.

Ron instantly walked straight to Harry, flinging both his hands out in apparent frustration. She looked at them a bit stupidly for a second, before gathering her wits and closing the door behind him.

Harry had prepared himself for Ron as soon as he'd heard his voice. When his friend came charging through the door, he steeled himself even more, knowing very well that look of determination that had settled in his eyes. It was still quite a shock, however, to see such an ornate amount of anger settle over his features as he opened his mouth to speak.

Ron looked at Harry for a moment wondering silently if he actually _wanted_ to get expelled from Hogwarts, because, right now, there were enough things stacked against him that could have him booted out from school. Going from least to greatest offense, Harry had not only been having an affair with their professor, but he had been late to Snape's class five consecutive times, which was why he couldn't help the venom and heat that accompanied his words as they left his mouth.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"**

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**AN 3:** That was a little humor on my part by making Ron think to himself that being late to Snape's class was a more serious offense than Harry's relationship with Tonks. LOL. By the way, reviews are muchly appreciated and greatly adored. 

**Remember**: Embrace the ship of Tonks and Harry forever!!!


	3. Chapter Three

**Author**: J.A.K.

**Rating**: R

**Author's Notes**: This story starts in the middle of Tonks and Harry's relationship. There will be a few flashbacks alluding to situations and events that happened in the past between the two, but I felt it best to start here because the crux of this story lies in them _being_ together not in how they _came_ to be together. I also wanted to warn everyone that this is a darker Harry; less like the one written in books 1 through 4 and more like the Harry written in book 5.

**AN 2**: Again thank you all for the wonderful reviews. I would like to say that I'm very sorry this chapter took so long. You can blame it all on me having a severe case of writer's block. Still, writer's block aside, I decided that I had to finish it today because I'll be in LA this coming week, for spring break. So it may not be as good as I want it to be, but it _is_ an update. Enjoy!

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**Chapter Three**

Harry watched in minor disbelief as Ron's voice bounced off the walls and resonated within the otherwise still air.

Standing at an upright position, so that he could compensate for his friends obvious height advantage, Harry calmed himself enough so that he could listen to what Ron had to say. He tried, as best he could, to maintain his composure, as the fact remained that he _had_ kept a major aspect of his life secret from his two best friends. And in so doing, he had lied to them—bold-facedly—on several occasions. The least he could do now was let Ron vent his emotions…or as much as his own temper would allow them to be vented.

Ron felt a surge of irritation run through his veins at Harry's serene disposition.

"Did you hear me Harry?" Ron tapped his middle and index fingers against his temple. "Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?" He sighed when his friend merely blinked at him, lips compressed into a firm line.

He's mad, Ron surmised. No…he's pissed off; but for whatever reason, he wasn't responding. Ron accepted that information and looked slowly about him, realizing that Tonks was still somewhere in the room. When his eyes rested on her form, a slight smile shaped on his face at the simple fact that he couldn't really blame Harry for engaging in certain…unmentionable activities with her.

He turned his head again and stared dead on at his friend.

Ron leaned against one of the desks that were directly behind him as he spoke.

"Harry, if anyone finds out about this, you'll be in danger of getting expelled."

Harry nodded his head slightly, knowing that what he said was true. At the same time, his eyes couldn't help but wander around Ron's body and stare at Tonks. She appeared more anxious than he'd seen her lately, and that was saying a lot, as he had been a witness to the look on her face when he'd come along with her, and a handful of Aurors, on their latest mission.

He shook his head faintly, trying to focus his attention on the situation at hand.

Ron waited for Harry to say something, but continued on when sound was not forthcoming. He folded his hands against his chest.

"Harry, I'm not even supposed to be here right now. I have free hour, but Hermione stopped me in the hallways to tell me that when she confronted you, you cursed at her while essentially telling her to mind her own business."

Harry shrugged faintly, not knowing what else to do. He'd admitted to himself that he'd felt a bit bad for speaking to her the way he did, but fuck it, Hermione did need to mind her own once in a while.

Tonks watched their one-sided exchange and kept her mouth shut. She knew that any interjections she had to make at this point would only make things worse, and the last thing she needed right now was to have somebody walk by the room and overhear some juicy tidbit about her involvement with Harry—which reminded her. Tonks stepped slowly and guardedly to her robes and drew out her wand. Murmuring a few words under her breath, she pointed at the air surrounding them, effectively placing a sound proofing charm around the room.

Ron was unwise to the movement behind him. All he could register right now was how nonchalant Harry was being to everything he'd said thus far. Enough was enough, Ron thought, easing his arms from their previous position.

He stepped closer to Harry.

"Do you know that things have been strained between Hermione and me for the last couple of days now?" He didn't give him a chance to reply. "Do you want to know _why_?" This time he paused, gauging Harry's body language. It looked like he was actually listening to him—as if he wanted to reply, but instead, Harry just shook his head.

"Hermione came to me a few nights ago, talking on and on about how familiar you and Tonks had become. She kept alluding to what she was trying to say but never actually came right out and said it." Ron stared at Harry's eyes, wondering if he knew where he was going with this, and wondering if any of what he was saying was registering. "Then I told her to spit it out, and she did. And then _I_ responded by saying she needed to read some more books, because the whole profound insight thing that she does so well was completely skewed for once." Ron held out his arm towards Harry. "I told her that even if her theory was right, that she was still somehow wrong, because Harry would tell me if he was fraternizing with one of our Professor's."

Ron's short monologue motivated Harry into speech. He had felt bad for not telling them about his relationship with Tonks, but this was ridiculous.

Harry stretched out his own arms.

"So what is this now, woe is Ron because he's just figured out that his pal Harry doesn't tell him all of his secrets."

Ron felt the blood rush to his ears, making them turn pink as they often did when he was angry.

"No this isn't _woe_ is Ron. I'm just asking you why you didn't tell us about this…or at the very least _me_." Ron pointed at his chest. "You know that I, of _all_ people, wouldn't give two shits about who you're having sex with."

Tonks gave a quick intake of breath at Ron's words. Did he really have to put things across quite that way?

Harry gave partial consent to his friend's statement, but still had a rebuttal waiting patiently at the tip of his tongue.

"Well what was that whole bursting in here bit about; and then demanding what the bloody hell is wrong with me?" Harry moved his hands about to emphasize his point. "I don't call that not giving two shits."

Ron ignored his words for now, pushing through with his point to get at the heart of the matter.

He moved forward a step.

"Harry I'm the least of your problems." Tonks nodded her head involuntarily in silent agreement. These were Harry's friends who had found out about them, and the most either of them would do was give him a tongue lashing. The same couldn't be said if anyone else were to catch wind of their affair.

Ron looked at his best friend, hoping that he would appear as sincere as he felt.

"I'm only looking out for you mate." As he finished speaking, Harry gave Ron the once over, then slowly turned his attention towards his feet. He sighed as he raked his hand through his hair.

"I know you are," Harry said, meeting his eyes. "It's just…" he turned and looked at Tonks who seemed as if she were trying to somehow meld into her surroundings. Her cheeks were tinted faintly red, but her gaze, as she watched him, was unwavering and deep and made him breath slightly faster from their intensity.

"Complicated," Ron's voice finished. Ron noticed how the two of them were looking at each other, briefly though it was, and somehow felt as if he were intruding on something very private.

"Yes," Harry said, turning his head to look at his friend once again.

He took a few steps forward, and placed his hand lightly on Harry's shoulder.

"Well, let's not make things any more complicated than they have to be by throwing Snape into the fray." Harry rolled his eyes at Ron words, wishing for anything that Snape would just fuck himself and die.

"He's right Harry." Tonks took a few strides closer to where they stood, pointing her finger out a bit accusatorily at him. "Snape's already smarter than most, not to mention eerily perceptive," she folded her arms, feeling moisture rise gently through the pores of her skin "For all we know, he's already figured out that what's happening between us is more than a simple student teacher relationship."

Harry recognized the emotion that clouded her face for what it was, and reached over to sooth away her panic. His action was cut short, however, by a loud incessant banging that came from the other side of the door.

"Harry…Ron…open up." There were a few more loud staccato raps. "Quickly!!"

Harry and Ron looked at each other in confusion for a moment before the two moved to undo the lock. It was Ron who got there first and opened the door. Both of them were at a loss for words at the state Hermione was in. Her robes look disheveled and her breathing was somewhat erratic. Luckily for the two young men it was Tonks who spoke for them.

Tonks ushered Hermione into the room while closing the door firmly behind her.

"Hermione what are you doing here?" She put her hand around the younger woman's arm. "Why are you out of Potions so early?"

Hermione put a calming hand on her chest to steady her breathing.

"In case you're wondering, I just ran down two flights of stairs, through numerous rooms, and one secret passageway just to get here before Snape manages to."

At the mention of his professor's name Harry moved next to his lover to stare intently at his friend.

"What does Snape have to do with this," Harry asked.

Hermione stared at the trio, watching them closely for their reactions.

"An announcement was made about fifteen minutes ago that Dumbledore canceled classes for the rest of the day."

Ron felt that this would be a good place to exclaim what was on both Harry and Tonks' minds.

"He did **_what_**?" Ron looked at Hermione with a bewildered expression. "Why would Dumbledore do such a thing?"

Hermione shook her head, impatiently.

"That doesn't matter." She looked around her at the three people who were waiting, with baited breath, for what urgent news she would to tell them. "What matter's now is that during class Snape kept watching your chair with a bit of a gleam in his eye, as though he knew why you weren't there." She hesitated, realizing she sounded a tiny bit ridiculous, but shrugged her shoulders anyway. "I mean, I _could_ be paranoid, knowing what I know and all, but I _swear_, as soon as the class was dismissed, he quickly gave out his assignment then started making his way towards the general direction of this room."

There was a beat of silence as she stared expectantly at them and them at her.

Suddenly, Ron let out a loud booming laugh that rang in all of their ears.

"Hermione," he started while gasping for air. "For being the calm rational one, you sure know how to insight the ma—"

"Professor Tonks," Snape's soft yet clear voice made its way to all four occupants of the classroom. They stared at each other in a moment of stunned horrified disbelief. "I do believe you are harboring a student of mine."

Harry turned to the woman beside him and decided it would be best to put a steadying arm around her shoulders.

"I would like nothing more than to have a small chat with the both of you, right now."

Tonks felt as if the walls were closing in on all sides of her. She knew for certain that if Harry weren't supporting her, she would have most likely been passed out, and sprawled on the floor already.

Tonks took a deep breath trying to remind herself to stay calm and collected. Shooing both Ron and Hermione to the small room that contained various materials and props, she steeled herself as she turned towards the door Snape was still politely knocking on, preparing herself for the worst.

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**AN 3: **As always, reviews are muchly appreciated and greatly adored. 

**Remember**: Embrace the ship of Tonks and Harry forever!!!


	4. Chapter Four

**Author**: J.A.K.

**Rating**: R

**Author's Notes**: This story starts in the middle of Tonks and Harry's relationship. There will be a few flashbacks alluding to situations and events that happened in the past between the two, but I felt it best to start here because the crux of this story lies in them _being_ together not in how they _came_ to be together. I also wanted to warn everyone that this is a darker Harry; less like the one written in books 1 through 4 and more like the Harry written in book 5.

**AN 2**: Again thank you all for the wonderful reviews. I would like to say that I'm very sorry this chapter took so long. Exams are over now, so I'm out for the summer. Right now as I'm typing this I'm in the process of trying to update all of my fics. And there are a lot. Please read, review, and most importantly…enjoy!

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Chapter Four **

"Let me get straight to the point," Snape said as he breezed by Tonks into the room. "Mr. Potter has been swaggering around these halls for too long now." Snape's eyes were unforgiving as he looked at Harry. "All of you have been reduced to simple dogs barking at his commands, jumping to meet his needs at his say-so." Snape trailed off in disgust. He could not, for the life of him, understand how grown adults could be coerced into twisting every rule, just so they could fit the whims of this insolent brat.

She closed the door behind him and moved to stand in the center of the room.

"Professor I have no idea what you're talking about." Tonks' eyes traveled nervously from Harry back to the sneering man in front of her. "I have done nothing for Harry that I haven't done for my other students."

Snape raised his eyebrows, a dry smile twisting his features as he relished the fact that he had caught her in a lie.

"Is that _so_ Professor?"

Harry didn't know what to think of Snape's questioning. All he knew was that the man was an unimaginable bastard who held nothing desirable about him at all.

Snape pulled out several dry pieces of ripped parchment paper from the sleeve of his robe. He stepped closer to Tonks, stretching out his arm.

"Then what, pray tell, are these?"

Tonks looked at the paper in Severus' hands, heart hammering as she took them from him. She felt her brow furrow as she slowly unfolded them.

Oh no, Harry thought. He had done those so long ago that he'd almost forgotten all about them.

"Are these letters of exemption?" Tonks asked. She was truly and utterly confused now.

Snape grinned at her, seeing the look of growing alarm on the boys face. Perhaps things were going to be interesting after all.

"How perceptive of you Professor, and yes, those are indeed letters of exemption." Snape couldn't help but feel slightly thrilled that the boy had been caught in one of his many lies. "With your signature no less."

Harry noticed how pleased Snape sounded with himself. Fraught with anger, he spoke.

"You're mighty smug about this whole situation aren't you…_Snape_." He said the word as if it were some vile disease, in a tone deserving of the repugnant man that stood before him.

Snape turned his attention fully on James Potter's son.

"Yes, Potter I am, because I, unlike every adult in this place, was never and will never be deceived by you." Snape looked at the pieces of paper that were in Tonks' hands. "That right there, _boy_, reveals you to be the liar I've always known that you were."

Harry's eyes narrowed at his words.

"It's just like you to turn this incident into another let's despise Harry Potter campaign. He _is_ after all a malicious and hateful person that nobody likes." Harry stretched out his hand. "Wait a tick…pardon me." He shook his head and lightly slapped his already upturned palm into his temple, as though he had just remembered something. "That's _you_."

"Harry, stop it right now." Harry turned to watch Tonks, almost forgetting that she was still in the room. "This is a very serious offense that you've committed and that is certainly no way to speak to your Professor."

She didn't _get_ it did she? Snape was always only out to humiliate him.

"But Tonks—"

Tonks was too furious to listen to whatever nonsense Harry was about to say.

"_Don't_ address me so informally." Harry had to make a conscious effort not to allow the shock to show on his face. "That goes for both of us." Tonks pointed to Snape. "We are your Professors and should be addressed as such."

Snape had to hand it to this little woman. For the first time in several years, the boy had been rendered speechless.

He turned to face the woman in point as she looked at him.

"He really has been doing that for quite some time now Professor." Snape looked towards the boy. "He seems to not know his place, and I'm glad that someone has finally addressed him in the proper—"

"Severus, I think it would be best if _I_ spoke to Harry now." Tonks kept her eyes carefully trained on the man standing in front of her, as she was way too furious to even glance at the boy standing behind her. "Or if you would prefer to speak to me privately at a different place at another time then feel free to tell me that exact place and time so that we can continue this conversation. Until then…please leave."

Snape forced himself to hold his tongue as he knew that Potter was about to receive the scolding of his life. Instead he settled with a good old fashioned glare; and with a swipe of his cape, he was gone.

Tonks whirled on Harry.

"What the _hell_ is wrong with you?"

Harry knew she had a right to be angry, but so did he.

"What the hell is wrong with _me_?" He took several steps in her direction to lessen the gap between them. "What the hell is wrong with _you_?"

That was not the right thing for him to say. It only stoked her ire further.

"Don't take that tone with me Harry." Tonks shook her head in disbelief. "You forged my signature so you could go late to Snape's classes?"

Harry rolled his eyes and folded his arms, disregarding the latter half of her statement.

"Oh cut the 'I'm the teacher and you're my student so you can't talk to me like that' crap." He narrowed his eyes at her. "That was cute when Snape was here, but we both know that I can talk to you however I want to."

That hadn't been quite how he'd intended to phrase his words but before he could recall them, Tonks responded.

"Oh you can, can you?" Tonks knew that her skin had turned varying shades of pink as blood rushed to her face. "Well I'm speaking to you as your _professor_, and right now you are _completely_ out of line."

Who in Merlin's name did she think she was? One minute it was 'faster Harry faster,' and the next it was 'Harry I'm your teacher so you can't talk back to me?'

"Well you don't get to decide when you're my lover and when you're my teacher." His voice had raised a few decibels while somewhere in the back of his mind something reminded him that Hermione and Ron _were_ only one room over, and that they could probably overhear everything they were saying.

"If you're gonna treat me like a grown man when you fuck me, then you can treat me like a grown man now too." Harry saw her eyes widen at his words. Well good. He stepped closer to her, his eyes darkening with emotion. "And I most certainly did not appreciate the way you spoke to me when Snape—"

"Paah!" Tonks couldn't believe he'd said those things to her. With his friends in the next room no less. "Harry, in case the memo didn't reach you yet, I'm here to tell you. You are NOT a GROWN MAN." She pressed her index finger against his chest with every word she spoke, emphasizing her fury. "You are a _little_ boy—"

Harry couldn't believe his ears. Had she really gone there?

"_Little_?" Harry asked, purposefully inflecting a malicious tenor into his voice. "You didn't think I was so _little_ last night, did you?"

The heat on her face was the unfortunate result of a full scale blush. Her internal voice was sputtering in response to what he'd just said. 'You can't let him speak to you like that. You're the adult here, act like one.'

"Harry your friends are in the next room," she hissed, in a dangerously low voice. "Shut the bloody hell up."

Harry saw with satisfaction that his last comment had done its job, and had sufficiently irritated her.

"So now I have to shut the bloody hell up." An unpleasant looking grin crossed his face. "I thought you _always_ told me to be relaxed when we're together, that I shouldn't hold back with you, that I should shout your name as loud as I wanted to."

She almost gasped at his crassness and to her horror, she felt moisture begin to gather in the corners of her eyes. Her tears, however, were not tears of pain, although his words had undeniably hurt her. They were tears of frustration and unreleased anger. Right now she wanted nothing more than to hit Harry with all of her might. Or perhaps hex him to kingdom come.

Tonks quickly brushed the wetness off her cheek as a lone drop escaped from her eye. Taking deep breaths, she looked passed Harry at her robes that were still strewn haphazardly across the back of her chair. She brushed by him, reaching for her things and stuffed them into her bag. Tonks knew she had to leave before she did something horrible to Harry. Like kill him.

Harry felt a pang of guilt as he watched tears form in her eyes. He felt even worse when one actually slid down her cheek. He silently cursed his unrelenting sharp tongue; pride before common sense was to be his downfall.

"Tonks," he tried.

She did not glance in his direction. She merely continued to stuff all of her books and various paraphernalia into her bag with sharp angry jerks.

Harry walked behind her and took hold of her elbow. Tonks quickly pulled it out of his hand.

Harry sighed deeply and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Dora listen—"

Tonks whirled on him for the second time that hour.

"Don't you _dare_ Dora me. I'm angry with you Harry." She picked her bag up with so much force that it almost hit him. Maybe she was trying to hit him on purpose. "No…angry isn't quite the word." Tonks slung her robes over her shoulder. "I'm furious."

Harry didn't want them to part like this.

"Tonks wait." He stepped in her way so she couldn't leave.

She was startled by his audacity. How dare he try and coerce her into talking to him.

"No Harry, I'm not waiting. Now get out of my way." When he didn't budge she added an incensed sounding NOW to convince him just how serious she was.

There was no speaking to her when she was like this. They just had to calm down before more hurtful things were said.

Harry stepped aside and watched as Tonks showed him how one effectively stormed out of a room.

* * *

Hermione and Ron glanced at one another, unsure if this was the proper time to come out of their hiding place. Lucky for them Harry answered that question. 

His face was weary when he opened the door.

"You guys can come out now." He made a few gestures that showed that he wanted them to step out of the room. "Snape's been gone for a while."

Hermione, brave soul that she was, took on the role of being the first of the two of them to speak. "Harry, we knew Snape was gone, we just didn't know if the arguing had stopped."

Ron cringed internally as he stepped over the threshold that led into the classroom. Way to go Hermione. Remind him of the obvious.

Harry, however, didn't seem to mind the comment.

"Right then. You heard that did you?" his tone was nonchalant as he sat down in one of the chairs that was jutting into the narrow isle. He took off his glasses and rubbed his hand along his face.

Hermione noticed his fatigue. When she opened her mouth to speak, she took that fact in mind, consciously trying not to sound too imperious.

"Of course we heard." She quickly looked him over trying to gauge what the reaction to his words would be. "And if I were you I would go begging on my hands and knees for her forgiveness."

Harry looked at her quickly, unable to tell whether her face had taken on that know-it-all-attitude that annoyed yet endeared her to him at the same time. He slid his glasses on.

Her face was serious and sincere. Trust her to take Tonks' side, Harry thought, shaking his head.

Women.

"How can you say that?" That came from Ron. His body was turned to face hers. "Didn't you hear what she said to him?" Ron rolled his eyes and folded his arms. "Obviously not. And when Harry gave her a taste of her own medicine, she doesn't want to talk anymore." Ron shook his head in slight disgust. "That's just like you women, you can dish it out but you can't take it."

Harry cringed internally at Ron's comment. Those, he knew, were fightin' words and they would lead to another long and infamous Ron and Hermione argument—one that he didn't have the energy to referee right now.

Harry stood up before Hermione could respond.

"I know the two of you are only looking out for me but I think I'll feel better if I just go and get some sleep now."

Hermione turned her attention towards Harry and away from the git that was standing next to her.

"But Harry—"

He held up his hands, cutting off whatever she was going to tell him.

"I just…I need to be alone right now. Okay?" He looked at the two of them, seeking their consent.

They both nodded, if a bit sadly.

Harry almost smiled at their forlorn looks. He knew that they wanted to talk about everything that had been unsaid for the past year, but he couldn't do that right now.

"In the mean while, you two can find out why Dumbledore cancelled classes, and we can meet up and talk about that later."

Hermione shrugged to herself. That offer was better than nothing.

"Alright Harry."

Ron must have agreed with Hermione, because he readily gave his approval.

"Later then, mate."

Harry turned around and left the pair inside, thinking of how he was going to fix things with Tonks.

* * *

It was later that night and Tonks was in bed; sleep, however was not forthcoming. She had turned and twisted for the better part of an hour before her mind, in an effort to calm her nerves, began to relive the memory of Harry's and her first time. As the scenes from that day played itself across the backs of her eyelids, she laughed in short chortles at the fact that she would have an even harder time falling asleep now. Tonks felt her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks as she strained to keep her heartbeat under control, but the memories kept coming. 

She had been training him for less than a year in secret. With the cover of her new title as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, she was able to roam the halls freely without rousing suspicions from anyone. In the meanwhile, she had been able to effectively teach Harry how to perfect all the spells he had ever learned, and then some.

Neither of them knew exactly when the sexual tension had started. She _did_ remember that it had reached a point that was almost unbearable for her. She had even considered asking Dumbledore to have someone else give him private lessons. But that would have been foolish. Dumbledore had a way of seeing right through people when they spoke to him. Any excuse she could have prepared for why she couldn't teach Harry would have been found out for the lie that it was. The real reason would probably jump into the equation as well, leaving her to sputter and stutter in front of the headmaster. The image, at the time, had been enough to send Tonks back to Harry, without him ever knowing what she had been planning to do.

Tonks twisted in her bed, feeling a smile grace her full lips. Not speaking to Dumbledore on the matter had been the point of no return. Had she somehow coerced another teacher, perhaps McGonagall or even worse Severus, to take her place, things might have never progressed to the stage it was now. Perhaps, deep down, she had known that.

As immersed as she was in her daydream, she never heard the sound of another presence entering her room.

Tonks couldn't help but vividly recall the moment his lips had touched hers in a kiss that was hesitant and assertive all at once. She later admitted to herself that as his teacher, she should have stopped him from letting things go any further, but as his lover, she was forever grateful that she hadn't. Harry's hands, which she had known were strong, had framed the span of her back, until they eased their way down and settled comfortably on her hips. Tonks had long ago placed her hands lightly at the blade of his shoulders—for balance more than anything—but found herself winding her arms around his neck as the kiss became more sensual—infinitely more erotic. She was several inches shorter than him, and in his excitement he had picked her up until they were almost at eye level.

Tonks' hands were traveling lower and lower down her body as she seemed to be reliving a pleasant memory…or maybe she was envisioning some sort of fantasy. He wondered briefly who the person of her desire was, and was suddenly struck jealous at the realization that she might not have been thinking of him. Feelings of insecurity slowly crept their way through his mind.

He put his wand and his glasses on her bedside table as softly as he could without disturbing her; if she was having fantasies of being with someone other than him then he would have to remedy the situation.

He was reaching out for her when she emitted a moan that stopped him in his tracks.

"Harry…" she breathed. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she chastised herself for behaving in such a manner, but she was still angry with Harry and there was no way she was going to call him to help her play out her fantasies. She would just have to relieve herself of the insatiable heat that had settled deep within the core of her stomach.

Harry couldn't help the smile that came to his face as she said his name. Not only did it do wonders for his slightly damaged ego, but it caused all of the blood in his body to run straight to his lower appendages.

She let out another hushed version of his name. _God_…even as angry as she was with him she still wished he was here. Forcing herself to stop what she was thinking and doing, she focused her mind on getting up and taking a cold shower…but it was so hard to move. Just open your eyes Tonks. Open them.

The very last thing she expected to see upon doing so was a very aroused Harry standing over her bed. She let out a surprised gasp and scooted away from him until her back was pressed against the mahogany wood of her bed head.

Harry had to forcibly keep his laugh in check at the momentary horror that crossed her face. He plopped himself down on the foot of her bed.

Tonks could tell by the look on his face that he was trying to keep himself from laughing; she couldn't help the irritation that subsequently welled up inside of her at his unexpected visit.

"Harry, how the hell did you get in here?"

Harry let his eyes slowly roam over her body. Her cheeks were still flushed from her previous thoughts and her body was practically bare from the waist down. In the illuminated light that came from the one candle on her table, she looked completely stunning.

Instead of answering her he leaned over her legs until his head was at the same level with her waist. He flattened his palm so that it was almost covering the entire width of her stomach.

Tonks felt her abdominal muscles clench at his touch, but put her hands over his to stop them from going any further.

"Harry, I really hope you didn't apparate in here." When he didn't answer her, Tonks felt her heart flutter. "Harry, Dumbledore can monitor all apparitions that are done inside the castle."

Harry bent his head in frustration. He had come here with hopes of allaying the hostility that had formed between them from their argument that had transpired earlier in the day. Tonks, however, seemed to be trying her hardest to spoil the moment.

He propped his head on his hand, his elbow digging into the bed as he stared up at her.

"Tonks, I've known about that since fourth year." Harry knew that the matter shouldn't have even been a problem, as on every other occasion that he had come to her room she had simply let him in.

Tonks wiped her suddenly clammy hands against her sheets as she slowed her heart beat until it felt like a dull thud against her chest. She knew that her irritation was not truly directed at Harry and the fact that he had surprised her, but at the thought that she had let herself be surprised in the first place. She was an Auror after all. No one should be able to sneak up on her.

Harry sighed, watching her try to calm herself.

"I used that spell you taught me last year." Harry softly drummed his fingers against the cotton material that covered her stomach as he waited for her to say something.

With his fingers touching her in such an intimate place, Tonks tried to remember why she had been mad at him. The things they had said to each other earlier were spoken in anger. She'd thought that she would still be furious with him the moment she laid eyes on him, but now, looking at his young handsome face, she found that whatever it was that had caused her to be angry, could wait until later to be resolved.

The right side of her mouth turned up in partial amusement.

"So you thought you could come in here and what…seduce me?"

Harry felt relief flood his system at her change in attitude. Admittedly he wasn't as clueless about the female gender as he'd been when he dated Cho, but sometimes her mood swings completely baffled him. He knew that Tonks wasn't one to stay angry for long, so her previous irritation with him had to be about something other than their argument. He shrugged, no longer concerned about the cause of her annoyance.

Instead he focused on the skin that was exposed right above her underwear. He placed a few kisses on that area, moving slightly away to lightly blow on her belly button. To his immense satisfaction, he felt her shiver underneath his fingers. Harry looked up at her.

"Is it working?"

Tonks moaned in response, running her fingers through his hair as she closed her eyes in anticipation. Like everything else he had ever been taught, Harry excelled at the finer points of foreplay, constantly thinking up new and inventive ways to make her squirm.

"Harry," she breathed, opening one eye. He was slowly dragging his tongue along the span of her body, pushing her shirt up at the same time.

"_Hmm_?" That was the most Harry could get his mouth to say, as it was busy doing other things. He slowly pushed the shirt up over her breasts. In response, she arched her back and stretched out her arms, allowing him to take it off completely.

Kissing his way across her face, he stopped as he now covered her entire length with his body. His eyes leisurely shifted from her lips to her eyes and back.

"Dora…" he whispered.

Tonks had already had her eyes open, but they closed in response to a name that only he called her.

They stayed closed as Harry kissed her. His tongue very gently and skillfully parted her lips as he pressed his way inside of her mouth. When her mind registered the symbolism of his actions, a slight shiver coursed through her body. They stayed that way for a while, kissing each other breathless. The depth of their kisses brought her mind spinning back to that first time in the training room.

Harry pulled slightly back from her, breathing raggedly against her mouth.

"Dora, I'm sorry." He couldn't help but place a quick kiss on her nose. "I know it seems like I've been saying that a lot lately, but I really am."

Tonks opened her eyes at those words. It wasn't just him that had crossed the line; she had said hurtful things as well.

"Harry…I'm sorry too." She ran her hands through his hair, stopping when her fingers touched the nape of his neck. "I shouldn't have—"

Harry moved as close as he could get to her without actually kissing her.

"Don't say anything," he said against her lips. "Just kiss me."

She readily obliged as she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to sear this moment into her mind.

The next time she opened her eyes was to watch Harry as he took her to a place that largely resembled utopia, over and over again.

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AN 3:** Do you like? Please review if you do, as reviews are muchly appreciated and greatly adored. If you don't, respond anyway so I can know what to change or add in future chapters. 

**Remember**: Embrace the ship of Tonks and Harry forever!!!


	5. Chapter Five

**Author**: J.A.K.

**Rating**: R

**Author's Notes**: This story starts in the middle of Tonks and Harry's relationship. There will be a few flashbacks alluding to situations and events that happened in the past between the two, but I felt it best to start here because the crux of this story lies in them _being_ together not in how they _came_ to be together. I also wanted to warn everyone that this is a darker Harry; less like the one written in books 1 through 4 and more like the Harry written in book 5.

**AN 2**: Again thank you all for the wonderful reviews. Sorry for the delay. I've been doing a lot of traveling lately (first Sabago Lakes, Chicago, then Atlanta) so I haven't really had the opportunity to further my fic. Luckily, while I was in Chicago, I had nights where I was just whiling away the time, and somehow I managed to piece together this chapter (on a notepad by the way). Atlanta was when I finally got the chance to put the whole thing together. Please forgive spelling errors and the like, as they are not intentional. The next chapter should be out very soon because I wrote that like two months ago. Before you go on to the story I just wanted to remind everyone that although this is a Tonks/Harry fanfic, there is still a _plot_!! So please read, review, and most importantly…enjoy!

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Chapter Five **

Harry sat in the Three Broomsticks, watching his friends as they chatted away about one frivolous topic after the next. Lately, anything that anyone had to talk about these days was irrelevant. Unlike his peers, he did not have the luxury of letting his mind be occupied by simple matters like clothes and fashion, and or which celebrities were in the latest issue of Witch Weekly.

The sound of Hermione's quiet laughter filled his ears as he watched Seamus' fingers accidentally on purpose brush against hers as he reached for his drink. Harry paused in what he was thinking, and glanced over to where Ron sat at the other end of the round table. Lo and behold. Even from three seats away and in the midst of what seemed like a heated discussion, his friend managed to screw the corners of his mouth down at the sight of Seamus' action.

Harry looked skyward for a moment and sighed. Why didn't those two just shag and get it over with already. It was clear to everyone who attended Hogwarts that they got off every time they wound up in a spat with each other. Arguing was their equivalent to foreplay. The fact that they were his closest friends was one of his better reasons for him wanting them to find happiness, but he also had other, more selfish, motivations. For starters, maybe he wouldn't feel so bad—ditching them for Tonks—if they were more wrapped up in each other instead of him.

Harry sighed again.

The mere thought of her name brought an array of mixed emotions swirling through his entire body.

Last week she had told him that it was her responsibility as a teacher and as his mentor to inform Dumbledore of what he had done; after all, forging someone's signature was an unacceptable offense, _especially_ if that someone was his professor. Little did she know, or perhaps she forgot, that offenses meant almost nothing when one was Harry Potter.

He had discerned in advance what Dumbledore's response would be, but he didn't let Tonks know that, allowing her instead to purge her conscience.

In the past, Dumbledore's disappointed eyes would have deeply affected him. They would have felt worse than any punishment the headmaster could have administered. Before Sirius' death, however, a lot of things were different. His respect for the old man had diminished in waves since then. No longer was Dumbledore the all knowing, '_always_ right' person that Harry had believed him to be. Though, if truth be known, Harry was almost grateful for that unexpected eye-opener, because—since then—he had come to learn several lessons.

Lesson one. To the Light, at least while Voldemort was still at large, he was and would forever be _their_ weapon.

He also learned that people had to _earn_ trust, and that it was never—under _any_ circumstances—to be given away freely.

His thoughts continued in that circular, self-obsessive path until Dean Thomas walked through the doors. Dean's presence caught the eye of all six people who sat with him, and a sudden hush came over the table.

Harry was thankful that he was there; the mere fact that he was standing where he was reminded him that he wasn't the only one with problems.

Last week he, along with the rest of the school had learned the reason why the headmaster had canceled classes for that day. Apparently Voldemort, as well as several Death Eaters had attacked numerous Muggle villages, and some of the casualties included parents of students who attended Hogwarts. Dean was one of the unlucky few, which unfortunately meant that he was now an orphan.

Dean had left school for a couple of days, to take care of legal matters and family alike, but now he was back. It was for his sake alone that everyone was making a concerted effort not to appear too happy while he was around. Little did they know that the last thing Dean wanted from anyone was their sympathy. Actually, to be perfectly honest, the last thing he wanted was to be _around_ anyone.

Dean took a step backwards.

Coming here was a mistake.

He shook his head, rolling his eyes at those who were a part of the impromptu Gryffindor gathering. He turned and made his way to the other side of the pub, not wanting to travel all the way back to Hogwarts just yet.

Harry noted Dean's reaction and empathized. He knew what the kid was going through. He could probably even guess exactly what he was thinking.

"Well…maybe he didn't see us." Lavender suggested, breaking the silence.

Ron sighed, putting as much sarcasm into his tone as he could.

"_Right_, that's why he was looking straight at us."

Lavender colored, while turning to glare at Ron. Her mouth opened, ready to defend her statement, but her face abruptly changed—as if she thought better of her words—and she promptly kept her response to her self.

Lavender shrugged instead, feeling slightly offended that Dean didn't want to talk to them.

"You know, even though he's like this, we shouldn't take his snub personally," Harry switched his attention from Dean and locked eyes with Hermione as she spoke. "He's just grieving."

Harry gave her a half smile as an onslaught of affection poured through his body for his perceptive friend.

"I'll go talk to him." This time all eyes turned to him, mildly startled. He couldn't blame their reaction really, as he was solely responsible for giving himself an anti-social reputation mid-way through sixth year.

Harry pushed himself out of his chair and walked over to where his friend and housemate sat.

Hearing the approaching footsteps, Dean raised his head in irritation at the intrusion. Irritation quickly became surprise, however, when he realized whom the person standing before him was.

"Harry…"

Harry felt a bit amused at Dean's reaction, but wisely kept said amusement to himself.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

Dean carefully eyed Harry. He noted his calm expression and was slightly mollified. At least this was a person who understood. A person that could say "I know what you're going through,'' and truly _know_ what he was going through. After all, both of his parents had been killed by the Dark Lord.

Dean sat back in his chair and pointed to the one that faced him. He folded his arms over his chest as Harry took the seat.

Harry immediately flagged down a waitress that was passing by them and asked for a butter beer.

"Did you want one?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders.

"Sure."

Harry flashed a few of his teeth at the young woman.

"Could you make it two then?"

The waitress lowered her eyes and smiled, a slight blush creeping up along her neck.

"That's two butter beers coming right up."

The exchange brought a small genuine smile to Dean's face.

"Harry Potter when did you become such a Lady's man?"

Harry placed his elbows on the table, twiddling his fingers, and looked at the person sitting opposite of him, ready and waiting with an answering smile of his own.

"Dean Thomas, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Dean shook his head and looked out the window. There was an ensuing silence that followed between the two, but it was comfortable. He heard as Harry thanked the waitress for their drinks, but didn't turn his head in response. It was only until Harry was on the last sip of his butter beer that he finally knew what he wanted to say to the Boy Who Lived.

"I want in."

Harry swallowed the remaining contents of his drink and set the glass down with a raised eyebrow.

"You want in on what?"

Dean sat forward in his seat and stared his friend directly in the eye.

"I don't know about everyone else Harry, but I'm not stupid." Dean glanced around, making sure that anyone within hearing distance wasn't suspicious looking. "I know that there is a resistance to Voldemort," Harry was surprised to hear someone his age, refer to the Dark Lord by name, "and I also know that you're a part of that resistance."

Harry surreptitiously eyed the people sitting around them. They seemed well enough, but one could never be too careful. Harry brought up his hand, halting Dean's words.

"Before you say anything more, you might want to stop whispering as if you've got something very important to tell me and lean back in your chair so that you look more relaxed."

Dean did what he was instructed and quickly resumed talking.

"You see…that's what I mean."

The waitress came back asking them if they wanted anything else. Dean shook his head as he watched Harry give the girl the once over before he said no and paid for the drinks.

"_Whatever_ you're a part of…_wherever_ it is…I want in."

Harry saw that he was serious. He also saw pain; raw unabashed pain that could not be consoled and would only ease with time.

Pain sometimes made people do stupid things.

"I know that you want revenge because I wanted…" he looked at his fingers as an image of the crazed but beautiful face of Bellatrix Lestrange flashed across his mind, "…and still want revenge too." He raised his eyes to look at his friend. "But the fact of the matter is, I can't let you make that decision while you're like this."

Dean felt anger cloud his features as he sat forward.

"Like _what_?" He cut off whatever his mate's response was going to be. "This," he said pointing to himself, "is not a disease. This is grief Harry." He heard his voice rising, but didn't having the presence of mind or the will to stop it. "Grief doesn't have a magic cure all. There is only _one_ way of getting over grief, and that's facing reality and moving on." Dean felt his breath's coming in short uncontrollable huffs and stopped himself before he started crying. He sat back in his seat and looked around him to see if anyone had heard. From the looks of things they hadn't, so he continued, taking a long gulp of his cooled butter bear.

He set the glass down, inhaling deeply at the same time.

"This," his voice cracked and he paused, shutting his eyes briefly. "Doing _this_ is the only way _I_ know how to move on."

Harry understood all too well what Dean was feeling, which was why he wanted to protect him from himself.

Yet he knew he would be a hypocrite if he denied him this. The war was fast approaching, and as regular students got pulled into it, they were quickly seeing that a side had to be picked and defended.

Harry nodded his head and Dean, for the first time in a while, felt hopeful.

"Okay…" The boy showed a few teeth at that word. "Meet me in the Library around seven to talk about some things, alright?"

Dean smiled a big genuine smile as he stood to leave.

"Alright."

Harry sat back in his chair and watched Dean leave the small pub. From his position, he couldn't help but feel smug and just a _tiny_ bit satisfied.

* * *

Later that evening:

Tonks felt worry crease her brow at Harry's lack of focus. Usually, the vigor and precision he used to execute each attack and counter-attack was visible to even the untrained eye; but now she could see that something was weighing heavily on his mind. Perhaps he wanted a follow-up report on the Order meeting held two days prior.

She flicked her wrist, performing a simple disarming spell, which he automatically blocked. Tonks continued in this manner, throwing him one easy spell after another, confirming her suspicions that he was indeed acting out of dole.

"Someone's on the inside."

Her blurted statement gave him pause enough to let her take his wand from him. In the fractioned space of time it took for him to recover, she cast another spell, forcing him to employ wandless magic in order to defend himself.

Eyes alert, Harry called upon the natural magic that lay dormant inside of him. The ward summoned was simple, but powerful. Unfortunately for Tonks, the ward was more damaging than he intended, and it's after affects knocked Tonks squarely off her feet.

She landed with a loud "thwap" on her back, the force of the fall making her see stars for several moments. She slowly curled on her side. The nausea which had overtaken her earlier in the day, returned full force.

Harry had originally done nothing when he saw Tonks' body lying on the matted floor, as they had done much worse to each other in the course of his training. His nonchalance, however, became alarm when his lover proceeded to turn on her side, moaning softly as she clutched her abdomen.

Tonks tried as best she could to keep the contents of her stomach inside of her mouth as the various smells of the tattered mat pervaded her nostrils. Smooth hands brought her out of her thoughtful concentration as they unthinkingly traveled down her sides and settled over her stomach, searching for her source of injury.

"What happened," he asked.

Tonks opened her eyes to see Harry kneeling before her, something akin to panic etched on his strangely dark face. It was that look that made her realize how serious the situation must have seemed from his position.

She rolled on her back, pushing his hands away while assuring him that she was okay.

Heat flooded her neck and body as he continued to gaze at her body, skepticism reflected deeply in his eyes.

What the hell was wrong with her? How could she let a simple ward immobilize her? Tonks scooted herself into a sitting position, embarrassed by her exposed vulnerability.

Shaking her head slightly in an effort to clear it of cobwebs, she couldn't help but stare wonderingly at the person sitting in front of her.

Training all those years as an Auror were almost for naught when it concerned this boy. Harry Potter, at seventeen years of age, was still more powerful than she could ever hope to be.

However, he didn't need to know that.

Not yet.

Tonks sighed as she forced herself to remember that Harry was not to be caught off guard.

Harry could see that she was obviously embarrassed; whether it stemmed from her fall or something else, he couldn't tell—so he wisely kept his distance.

The silence that followed grew beyond awkward as her eyes searched his face for countless seconds. Unable to hold her gaze, he looked to his feet instead.

Harry took a deep breath.

"So…what did you mean when you said that someone was on the inside?"

Tonks crossed her legs—Indian style—while mentally preparing herself for what she was going to say.

She tilted her head and looked him straight in the eye. The direct approach was always best.

"At the meeting," She hesitated, unsure of how he would react, especially given his trust issues. "It was confirmed that Voldemort is using someone who's close to you to… work against you."

Harry's mind blanked, thinking desperately of every face that came to the fore. Had anyone appeared or acted suspiciously of late?

His eyes were unfocused and Tonks knew that he was mentally inspecting his friends and acquaintances recent behavior.

"That's not all." He braced himself, knowing that whatever she had to say would be bad.

"They know that you're being trained…" her voice trailed off as she left him to figure out her unspoken words.

Harry felt his heart skip a beat. Hesitation weighed heavily on the tip of his tongue.

"Do they know that you're the one that trains me?"

Tonks saw the fear on his face and noted that his reasoning skills needed to be worked on. He always jumped to the wrong conclusion when danger or potential danger was close to the people he cared about.

"No Harry." His face sagged slightly in relief. If the Death Eaters knew she was training him, her head would be wanted on a silver platter. "The mere fact that they know that you're being trained means that people are noticing your substantial improvement in all of your classes." Tonks thoughtfully reflected her statement. "Well…they see your improvement, bad behavior aside."

Harry's tolerance for teachers and their tolerance for him had waned drastically since the middle of Sixth Year. He didn't really see the point of civility when he was mad at just about everyone. The only professor he had maintained a modicum of respect for was McGonagall. She never treated him differently than any of her other students. She always had his best interests at heart, and there was always a level of respect that she had showed him since First Year.

At his continued silence, Tonks gave a long-suffering sigh.

"Harry, none of the professors would tell Voldemort about your progress, now would they?" Tonks watched as he turned over her words in his mind.

Harry shrugged, looking at his shoes once again.

"I wouldn't suppose they would—no."

Tonks moved her hands expressively, coaxing him into following what she was trying to say.

"And the only other people who would or could see your developments for themselves are…"

As the words came out of her mouth, a light bulb turned on in Harry's brain.

"The students," he supplied, his gaze leaving his shoes to meet her eyes.

Tonks couldn't help but smile at the wonderment that reflected on his face.

What was that American saying again?

She stuck her finger into the air.

"By George I think he's got it."

Harry's forehead furrowed at the implications of what such a thing meant. It suggested that while official battle plans hadn't been made, the war had truly begun. He had always known that students were beginning to pick sides; but he didn't know that said students were sending information directly or indirectly to Voldemort.

He let out a low grunt of chastisement, as he should have thought of that prospect before. After all, students in the three houses were looking for ways to become a part of the unofficial underground movement called "the resistance." It only made sense that others would be looking for ways to help the Dark Lord.

Lately, it had been tragedy that was the motivating force that spurred some of his schoolmates into action. Schoolmates like Dean Thomas.

Harry paused in his thoughts.

"Would you think it weird if someone was suddenly interested in getting in on the whole down with Voldemort campaign?" He stood up as he said this, prepared to start dueling again. Tonks followed his lead and stood, positioning herself in a battle stance.

"It would depend on the circumstances surrounding their interest." She left her wand where it lay and summoned the magic that was inside of her.

Harry circled her, prepared for her attack.

"His mother was killed in the attack last week, so I think it would be plausible that he wants revenge."

Tonks was listening attentively to what he was saying…up until the point that she felt a sharp pain jolt her entire body. She ignored it, prepared to carry out her offensive strike, but the pains got worse.

This was simply ridiculous. Now she knew for _sure_ that she had to perform a spell on herself so she could see what was wrong with her.

Tonks stood still, calling her magic back inside of her hands.

"Harry I think I have to go lie down for the night."

Harry thought it strange that she would stop their session so abruptly, but he quickly glazed over that fact when he thought of what they could be doing later, inside of her bedroom.

"Maybe I could join you?"

Tonks took a sharp breath as the pain resurfaced again.

"No," she said backing up and shaking her head. "I just…" she paused taking another breath. "I just need to rest right now."

Worry etched itself on Harry's face again as he saw the manner in which she recoiled from her pain.

He took a step closer to her.

"Are you sure you didn't hurt yourself before?"

This time the rush of nausea almost made her deliver the contents of her stomach on the floor.

"No…it's alright. Really." Tonks turned around, walking steadily towards the door. She put her hand on the knob, resting it there while she worked through the feelings of queasiness that were swirling around in her stomach. As she turned the handle she felt a hand rest on her shoulder.

Harry knew that her behavior was odd, but for whatever reason she wanted to keep her problems to herself. He respected that and would leave her to work it out. But before she left…

Harry lowered his head so that his lips were right beside her ear.

"Goodnight," he whispered.

Tonks felt a shiver course through her body at his actions and had to force herself to move away from him.

She turned around and gave him a lingering kiss on the lips. He closed his eyes and at the same time she pulled away.

Before he could think to open them, she was gone.

**

* * *

AN 3:** Do you like? Please review if you do, as reviews are muchly appreciated and greatly adored. If you don't, respond anyway so I can know what to change or add in future chapters. 

**Remember**: Embrace the ship of Tonks and Harry forever!!!


	6. Chapter Six

**Author**: J.A.K.

**Rating**: R

**Author's Notes**: This story starts in the middle of Tonks and Harry's relationship. There will be a few flashbacks alluding to situations and events that happened in the past between the two, but I felt it best to start here because the crux of this story lies in them _being_ together not in how they _came_ to be together. I also wanted to warn everyone that this is a darker Harry; less like the one written in books 1 through 4 and more like the Harry written in book 5.

**AN 2**: The problem _I_ had with this chapter was that its so long that it takes quite a while for me to pick apart each paragraph. I think I've really had it after doing it this last time so I'll just put it up. Please read, review, and most importantly…enjoy!

**

* * *

Chapter Six **

Having barely just cast the spell mere moments ago, Tonks was surprised to see that, yes, the world was still indeed functioning around her. She sat on the edge of her bed, immobile and in shock. A million different questions and suppositions raced through her mind at the prospect of having to handle the repercussions that would follow her—rather _them_—because of what this meant.

Two days ago she had promised herself to cast an illness locator spell so that she could figure out what part of her body was causing her ailment. However, as soon as she'd gotten to her room, all she had wanted to do was lie down and sleep. Now, several spells and many persisting symptoms later, she'd finally decided to cast this one, never thinking that the results would come back the way they did.

There was a soft knock at the door, though being in the state she was in, she didn't have the presence of mind to answer. The person knocked for several long moments, but still she remained silent.

"Tonks are you okay?"

Harry pushed the door open. He knew that sometimes he would have to wait outside of her door before she bade him entrance. But never before did she ignore him altogether when she had personally invited him to her room. Making his way swiftly to where she sat, he kneeled in front of her trying to understand why she was staring right through him.

"Tonks?" He tried again. Still an answer was not forthcoming. He rested both his palms on her shoulders, shaking her slightly. Harry felt worry begin to settle in his body. Perhaps she was under some sort of spell.

Carefully holding the upper portion of her arm, he used his other hand to wave in front of her face.

"Dora…" Harry waited three beats, but was met with silence. "Dora, answer me right now or else I'm going to call Dumbledore along with anybody else who's competent enough to come and help you."

Tonks stared intently at the bespectacled boy who wasn't _really_ a boy that kneeled in front of her. His forehead was wrinkled heavily with concern. His eyes, which were always intense, blazed even brighter. His never fading scar was more visible now even through the dimness of the room, and she wandered briefly if someone somewhere was laughing at her.

She blinked slowly, feeling the horrifying signs of moisture gather and pool at the corners of her eyes. Running her fingers through his wayward strands of hair, she nodded her head unhurriedly, hoping that her mouth would cooperate with her brain and start working.

"Ye-yes." Tonks looked at the ceiling, as if searching for divine answers, and took a deep cleansing breath. Focusing her eyes clearly on the person who stood before her, she nodded her head again, more surely.

"I'm alright…or at least I will be." Harry carefully looked over the woman who was sitting in front of him. The Tonks he knew never cried. An errant tear might fall from time to time...but that was it.

He paused in his thoughts.

There _had_ been that occasion when he had unwittingly snuck up on her—one day during the summer before Sixth year—and he had found her in a state that was _way_ beyond crying. Of course, back then, he had never really had cause to speak to her, but he had known, still, that something really horrible must have happened to make her sob, so.

That was why it was particularly strange to see the droplets of tears that still hung defiantly from the tips of her eyelashes.

He leaned forward, cupping her face within his palm and wiped away any signs of moisture that lingered on her cheeks.

"Tell me what happened." Tonks had been lulled by the concern she'd seen in the depth of his green irises. She had been further taken when he wiped her tears away. But his words woke her from her stupor.

She looked down at her fingers, which were now intertwined with each other and wondered if she had the courage to do it; if she cared enough for him to tell him what he needed to hear.

"Harry," she said, bringing her fingers to wrap around his larger ones. Slowly she lowered his hands away from her face. "There's something serious that we have to discuss."

Maybe it was the dull note in her tone or the flicker in her eyes, but one of the two things told him that she had bad news. He rose slowly to his feet and pulled out the chair that was under the desk, turning it to face her. Leaning forward in his seat he rolled back his shoulders carelessly in a gesture that was meant to voice his confusion.

"What's going on Dora?" His eyes were soft but attentive as he put his elbow on the arm of the chair. She, on the other hand, knew how miserable she must have looked. Nothing about her eyes were calm; in fact, she had to keep herself from shuddering when he called her Dora, a name that was spoken only when he felt his most affectionate.

Sighing, she looked at her hands, unable to hold his penetrating gaze further.

"God Harry, why do you have to make this so hard?" Harry 's brow creased in bewilderment. He tipped his body closer in her direction and placed his palms on her thighs.

"What am I making harder?" He tried to catch her eyes, but she insisted on looking everywhere but at him. "Tonks, speak to me." Harry knew that she was having difficulty relaying whatever it was she was trying to say for _whatever_ reason, and for that, he kept his voice soft yet reassuring.

"I—we—" Tonks let out a few loose and meaningless words, but none of them transformed into the ever elusive sentence. Silence settled in the air and she could feel him waiting, somewhat anxiously, for her to tell him what she had to say.

Tonks slid away from his touch as she stood on her feet. Pacing for a few seconds, she took a deep breath, finally resolving within herself that this was for the best. She turned and faced him.

"Harry I think that we should…what I mean to say is…all the wrong people are beginning to get suspicious about our relationship." She saw the instant change in his face as he rose slowly and hesitantly from his chair. "I _know_ that you see that and that's—"

"And that's why I say fuck them." He took a few steps so that he stood directly in front of her. "Who cares—"

Tonks saw her chance to stop him and took it. For the second time that night she took her hands in his.

"That's the problem Harry." He looked down at her, apprehension traveling at full force through his body. "I know you don't care about what anyone would say about us," she let his hands go pointing to herself, "and though I have my reservations, I wouldn't care either. But what you and I think have nothing to do with it."

"_It_?" Harry stepped away from her, shaking his hands out of her grasp. "Is there a problem that I don't know about?" He watched her closely hoping that the anxiety he saw in her eyes was born out of something other than what he was secretly dreading.

Tonks was not surprised to see the amount of emotion that clouded his face. To most of the school, and even the wizarding community, Harry had flawlessly embodied an image of being completely unshakable. With that, he had gained an "attractive" I-don't-give-a-fuck-attitude. But she, along with his closest friends knew that most of it, if not all of it, was false. Yes, Harry was undoubtedly not the same person he was at age eleven, or even the same person he was when she'd first met him, but he was still as intense.

Tonks sighed again feeling the walls of her resolve beginning to crumble.

"Harry, you're seventeen and I'm…not." She watched as his irises seemed to double in size. Glancing quickly to her left and then back, she broke the hold his gaze momentarily had on her. "You're famous…everything you do is recorded and picked with a fine tooth comb." His Adam's apple did a soft bob as he swallowed. "All the attention will be too much to handle after everything that's happened," she paused to let her words sink in. "I'm just a distraction Harry. You need to have all your wits about you in order to defeat…_him_."

Harry heard all that she'd said, but was too shocked to make anything intelligible come out of his mouth. He was hurt yes, and he was stunned to say the least, but the most prevalent emotion that surged through his body was a hefty dose of anger.

He took a step in her direction so that they were standing inches from each other.

"Are you trying to tell me that you want us to stop seeing each other because _you_ think that you're distracting me from what, of _course_, is my ultimate mission in life—killing Voldemort?" He said his enemy's name with even more venom than usual, knowing how the word made her cringe.

Tonks was not fooled by his quiet tone of voice. She'd heard it too many times not to know that Harry was, in fact, deeply angry.

"Harry, you _know_ that I of all people understand that you're more than just the Boy-Who-Lived, and that your destiny is more than just killing…_him_, but they—"

"_They_," interrupted Harry, his voice raising a few increments. "Who the _fuck_ is they?"

Tonks felt a moments flash of irritation settle over her at his refusal to at least see the reasoning behind her words.

"_They_, Harry, are the people who will be your classmates for the rest of this year. _They_ are the people who will be writing vicious articles about you in the papers. _They_—"

Harry flung out his hand.

"Alright, I get it. So you've established who _they_ are." He narrowed his eyes, hoping that she could see how wrong her thinking was. "Like I said before though, who the fuck cares about _them_?"

Tonks paused, trying to keep her temper under control. This was not about her. _His_ anger, after all was to be expected. This was about her doing what was best for him.

"Harry, a lot of people believe that I'm naïve, at times," She took a few steps closer to him, making an effort to relinquish physical contact. "But I know that I'm not; just as I know that any hope for you to have possessed normal teenage naivety was stripped away when you got that scar."

Tonka looked at him seriously, willing him to agree with her.

"You're not naïve Harry, and if you would just think clearly for a minute you would see that what I'm saying is truly for the best."

Harry knew that in the state he was in, there was no room for thinking clearly. But he also knew that even in his most sane moment, he would never see the rationale in what she was telling him. Life had to be lived; he of all people knew that. He knew better than anyone that this very day—today—could be the last. We had nothing left but to enjoy what little pleasures we could get from moments spent with family and friends. There was no room for caring about the opinion of others. What he did, and with whom or when he did it, was not anyone's concern; reaping whatever happiness while he could was all that really mattered, and frankly, everyone—including the staff at the Daily Prophet—could go fuck themselves.

Simple.

Why then, after _all_ this time—all this time with him, all this time on _earth_—couldn't she understand that?

A light bulb flashed suddenly in Harry's head as something occurred to him. Perhaps she _did_ understand that, but something happened to make her doubt her own beliefs.

"Tonks, why don't you tell me what's _really_ going on here."

She had watched his eyes as they stared intently at her, and she felt herself becoming increasingly concerned. Harry had a way of accurately accessing people—though he never let on—that she found eerily uncanny. A weight pressed further on her when he asked her that question.

But she couldn't break now.

"What's _really_ going on here is that we shouldn't be seeing each other anymore." She took a single step backwards and sighed. There, she thought, she'd finally said it out loud.

He took a step to lessen the gap that had developed between them.

"But why are you telling me this now, of all times?" Harry watched her carefully, trying to gauge what she was thinking, or at least feeling, by her reactions. "Why not before, when we almost got caught during the summer? Or the time when you screamed my name so loud that you had to tell everyone that you'd seen a mouse and that I was the only one around that could kill it, and _that_ was all they'd heard." Harry mercilessly continued. "Why not last week when Snape barged in to your class and we thought for sure that he had come to tell us that we were busted." He felt his voice becoming louder from the intensity of the moment and the conviction of his words. "What happened today that you're telling me all of this right now?" Harry saw when her gaze broke from his and searched to focus on anywhere but on him. He also noticed when her chin trembled for the briefest of moments, and then stopped.

She couldn't watch him while he ranted like this. She couldn't hold his gaze as he searched her with his exceptionally accessing eyes.

Tonks wanted desperately to tell him. But then that…_that_ would change everything. And _she_ was the adult. And _she_ was the Auror. And **_she_** had to keep things in control...

Tonks felt her chin shake as the intensity of her thoughts clouded her emotions. Fortunately for her own preservation, she pulled herself together before it developed into anything more.

His hands went to her shoulders and stayed there.

"Tonks, tell me what happened." Still she wouldn't look at him. "I can help you with it if you just tell me what the problem is."

Another idea suddenly occurred to him, one that had him shaking internally. Harry took her chin in his hands, forcing her to raise her head and meet his eyes.

"Did somebody threaten you?" Anger that was already familiar to him seemed, for a brief moment, as if it would overtake his senses.

Tonks' eyes widened at the suggestion. She shook her head resolutely, thinking that the idea, alone, was preposterous. She was an Auror after all. She could take of herself.

"Then what is it," he pressed. Soon his voice sounded as if it were on some sort of magical automatic repeat, like one of those scratched…what was it that Muggles called it…oh yes, CD's. He kept asking her a varied version of the same thing over and over and _over_ again, until finally, she couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm pregnant Harry," she shouted. The shock of hearing herself say those words made her heart constrict. Her legs felt unstable and her body was shaky and weak. Tonks bent her head, backing slowly away from him to sit on the edge of the bed. She sighed unsteadily. Raising her head, she spoke softly to him. "I found out shortly before you came here."

Harry wasn't sure he'd heard right. Had she really said the P word? Had she actually just tacitly told him that in a few months he would be someone's father? Harry felt his knees wobble and he realized that he had to sit down. He sat in the chair that was still facing the bed Tonks was occupying.

She watched as he made his way to her chair, his face looking dazed.

God, she shouldn't have told him.

When in the near future, the time came for him to finally face Voldemort, he shouldn't have to think about this. It was a distraction.

If things had gone according to her plan, perhaps she would have bared everything to him once he'd defeated Voldemort. _Now_, his mind would be consumed by thoughts of the baby when he was fighting, likely costing him his life. She knew this supposition to be fact because she was an Auror, and there was a _reason_ Aurors, more often than not, had no families of their own; had no loved ones to distract them from their job.

Tonks was taken out of her thoughts by his abrupt stance. Her head came up as she followed his dazed eyes with her own.

"Well?" Her voice was rough and gravely. "What do you have to say?"

Harry stood there, still unsure he'd heard right.

Just in case he _had_ heard right, sitting down wasn't the answer to his problems right now either. Right now he needed to get some air.

"I uh…" Harry glanced behind him for several seconds and then turned back to face her. He refused to meet her eyes, because he wasn't sure he could handle such a feat quite yet. Instead he took a large gulp of air, clutched for the doorknob that was suddenly filling his right had, and left the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

Breathing heavily and staring into the empty space for countless minutes, he finally decided that he needed a place where he could properly think the whole matter through.

* * *

Ginny was walking as quietly as her footsteps would allow her down the darkly lit hallways of the castle. Though the air surrounding her was unusually cool for this time of year, warmth permeated her body as her mind floated in delight at the prospect of whom she was going to see tonight. 

Her bouncy steps came to an undiscerning halt as her eyes spied what appeared to be a figure hunched in the small steeple located inside the wall. A frown quickly marred her soft features as she hesitantly made her way closer to the dark figure. Though she wasn't afraid of her gatecrasher—as Hogwarts was almost as impenetrable as Gringotts Bank—she knew that the person could spell disaster if he or she reported her for roaming the halls during sleeping hours.

Then again, whomever that was, was in danger of her doing the same.

"_Hello_?"

The person raised their head slowly.

Though her wand provided light enough for her to put one foot in front of the other, the moonlight still hid all the important details that would allow her insight into the identity of the student.

"Ginny," came the warbled, questioning voice.

As soon as she heard her name emitted from the boys' lips she knew who he was, but her confusion increased tenfold.

She stepped closer to him until she could see his face. Ginny felt her brow furrowing in bewilderment as she sat down beside him.

"Harry what are you doing here?" She could see that his cheeks had dried tear tracks on them. His eyes were slightly glassy and unfocused, as if he'd only just stopped crying. His shoulders, however, were slightly tremulous as they heaved in and out under the pressure of his elongated breaths.

Harry didn't like the way Ginny had invited herself to sit next to him. Perhaps he had sent mixed messages when he had spoken, but the only reason why he'd responded to her voice was because he was just as confused by her presence as she was by his. He turned his head and his body away from her so that she would get the hint. However, after about thirty silent seconds Harry went from suggestive to obvious and turned his head back to face her.

"Go away Ginny."

Ginny was not so easily offended by his words or tone so she simply continued to sit where she was, boring a questioning hole into his skull.

"I'm not going to leave until you tell me why you're sitting here at this hour of the night, crying."

Horrified that she had discovered that much, Harry made two quick hard jerks with open palms down the sides of his face and stood, preparing to leave. He was in no mood to talk.

Ginny reached for his arm, holding him back from his departure. She rose up from her seat so she was standing next to him.

"You sit down Harry and I'll leave." She let go of his arm and started backing away, hands raised in a placating manner. "Whatever's going on I'm sure Ron and Hermione will help you, right?" Ginny flashed a sincere smile as she stopped in her tracks. "Feel better." And with that she turned to leave.

Harry watched as she made two whole steps in the opposite direction before he decided to call her back.

"Wait, Ginny," he said.

Ginny's surprise marred her smooth features.

She turned to face him, but before she gave him all of her attention, she quickly glanced at her watch. Though time hadn't passed by too fast since she first ran into Harry, she still hoped that whatever he was going to say would be quick.

Harry had seen the genuine concern that was etched on her face before she had turned to leave and in that instant, had made an impromptu decision.

He was going to tell her.

She was not only someone he could trust with his life, but more importantly, she was someone that wouldn't make him feel guilty for disappointing her by his actions.

He turned around and made his way back to his seat. Another bout of silence fell over them, but this time he didn't feel obligated to speak. Whatever he revealed to her now would be of his own assertion.

Ginny moved closer and stood over him. She could tell he was struggling to find the right words, so she sat next to him and waited, semi-patiently, as he gathered his thoughts.

Harry too a deep breath and stared at his folded hands.

"Everything…" he stopped, still unused to the feeling of telling someone outside of Hermione, Ron, and Tonks his problems. Maybe it would help if he looked at her square on. Tonks had always told him that the direct approach was best when broaching a difficult subject of conversation. Perhaps it was that way of thinking that caused so many people to think that she was blunt.

He took another deep breath and brought his gaze up to meet hers.

"_Everything_ is wrong."

The despondency in his voice alarmed Ginny but she didn't let it show.

"What do you mean when you say…_everything_ is wrong," she asked.

Harry faltered as his words stopped at the tip of his tongue. They were still too incredible to say out loud. The concept was still too fresh.

"I," he began. "I got…"

Ginny waited with baited breath, hoping that whatever he would reveal wasn't too fantastic.

Harry closed his eyes with clenched jaws and blurted out the statement.

"I got someone pregnant."

Ginny gasped.

Of all the things she had thought he could say, that one was fifty ideas removed from all of them. Unable to hold her incredulity to herself, she couldn't help but ask the most reasonable question that followed such a declaration.

"Who is it?"

Harry hadn't thought the conversation through this far and was rendered speechless. Lowering his head, he turned his face away from her and rested his forehead on his already propped up knee.

Ginny knew when she had overstepped her boundaries and immediately began to back track.

"That isn't important though…" her words tailed off and blended with the ensuing silence. Not sure what to say she began to study, instead, the back of his tense shoulders and the side of his set jaw.

Poor Harry, she mused. Just when he thought he had enough problems, along came another one.

Harry kept his mouth shut, not knowing what else he could say. He wasn't going to tell her it was Tonks that he'd shagged silly and gotten pregnant. And he definitely wasn't going to talk about how the whole situation made him feel. He ardently hoped that she would get the hint and leave things where they were.

Ginny did get it. And with one last long glance at Harry she stood.

"We can talk whenever you need to, okay?"

Her friend merely gave a slow nod.

"Bye Harry."

Ginny waited but he didn't respond, so she turned and left.

* * *

She was almost where she was supposed to be when she left the common room thirty minutes ago, but she was no closer in figuring out who it was that Harry had gotten pregnant. 

She had trekked this path a hundred times before and had no need to pay special attention to where she walked. Ginny took sure steady steps as her mind wandered far away from her surroundings.

As far as she knew, Harry hadn't been involved with anyone since those two short flings in the beginning of Sixth year, and quite frankly, she couldn't see Harry shagging either of those two girls anyway.

The only other females that he was around on a regular basis were Hermione and Professor To…

She gasped as her thought trailed off mid sentence.

Her steps faltered and she had to pay closer attention to the ground.

It _could_ have been Hermione though. At least the thought of those two being together was more conceivable than him and…

A picture of Ron's possessive glances and equally possessive touch ruined the base of that concept. Hermione's fleeting looks at her brother when she thought no one was watching shattered the illusion altogether. And besides, guilt wasn't one of the expressions that Harry's face had held when she'd seen him.

It _had_ to have been Tonks. And truly, the more she thought about it the more and more it made sense. One wouldn't catch it if he or she weren't looking for it, but the signs were all there.

Her mind fumbled to clarify everything she had just gathered.

Had Harry really impregnated their Professor? The mere thought was ridiculous, and yet it made the most amount of sense.

Her mind was so preoccupied with her incredible discovery that she didn't see the person standing in front of her, and she bumped into him.

She stopped in her tracks, startled.

"Where were you," he asked in a low voice.

She tilted her chin and looked him squarely in the face. The lines on his skin were lax and devoid of emotion. His eyes, which usually were severe, were narrowed but not accusing.

Ginny stammered to get out an answer that would belie the unmentionable events of her night.

"I-I was helping a friend."

He looked as if he wanted to ask more, but he simply disregarded the issue. Pulling her closer, he craned his head to the side and combed his limber fingers through her hair.

"You're here now, and that's all that really matters."

Almost forgetting why she had been late in the first place, Ginny emitted a contented sigh as she gladly leaned her weight into her lover of three months. Complacency, however, soon left her mind as she thought of Harry's situation. She had promised him that she wouldn't tell anyone, and she wouldn't. But as she lightly reflected his surprising declaration, Ginny couldn't help but wonder if the time would ever come when she would be able to tell her family and friends that she was having her own secret relationship with none other than Draco Malfoy.

**

* * *

AN 3:** Do you like? Please review if you do, as reviews are muchly appreciated and greatly adored. If you don't, respond anyway so I can know what to change or add in future chapters. 

**Remember**: Embrace the ship of Tonks and Harry forever!!!


	7. Chapter Seven

**Author**: J.A.K.

**Rating**: R

**Author's Note**: I've been away for a while b/c I had to blow off some steam. This steam was due to the flames that I received for chapter six. That said, I also wanted to let you guys know now that I've had this chapter written for a while. It was attached with a very long author's note. After I let myself cool down a bit more, I decided that I was being too rash. See…the good thing about me is that I am a very nice person (I like to go out of my way to make people feel more comfortable around me). The bad thing about me is that I get angry _very_ quickly. Maybe I need anger management classes, _whatever_… just know that _all_ is well with this story. From this point forward I will be updating regularly (perhaps once every two weeks). If you want, you can read the _extremely long_ author's note that I had intended to upload with this chapter. Oh, and I took some expletives out to make it a little less vulgar. I apologize now if I offend _anyone_.

**OLD AN**: After getting the feedback for this chapter and after twisting and turning the idea in my head for a few days now, I think that I've reached a decision. For those of you who have left a signed review up until the sixth chapter, I will give you a password to my website if you would like to continue reading my story. Some of you may be wondering why I would do something like this and to that, all I can say is: the flames are to blame. I _have_ gotten bad reviews before, so I can handle them. What left me irate were two major things. One: some people chose to either directly or indirectly curse me out. Actually, only one person did that. What the **FUCK** for, I don't know, but he chose to do it. Two: after reading some of these reviews, it became evident that some of these same people had been reading my story either from the beginning or from several chapters before, but have never left a review up until this point. So it would appear that the _only_ instance in which they have taken the time out to leave me a review is when they were dissatisfied with the direction I have taken my story—notably the pairing of Ginny and Draco. Maybe some people write such things and behave in such a manner on a regular basis, but to me that's just rude.

I didn't expect all of you to like the fact that I had paired Ginny and Draco together—for whatever reason—as I myself hate anything Ginny-esque, but everything in my fic is extremely relevant for things to come. I think the maturity and skill that an author has, is displayed by the fact that he or she may dislike or like a character but write them in a favorable or unfavorable light in their story. Some might think that what I'm doing is childish. Some might think ..."is it really _that_ serious?" Well, like I said before, I have thought about this repeatedly and my answer to both of those questions is "I don't care if my actions are childish and YES—to me—it's that serious."

I love the reviews I've received thus far—both good and constructive—and even the ones that ticked me off, because they really do help the number of reviews I currently have, to go up. I think that I've been extremely nice, and have left the option open for you to tell me what you thought I needed to improve. In that regard, I respect _Amscray_ for pointing out the relation between Ginny and Draco, as I was unaware that there was one in the first place. I checked it out on the Harry Potter Lexicon (which is JKR approved) and I now know that they are sufficiently removed from each other (as in not first or second cousins like you said) that I believe that I should not ruin my plot for that unforeseen obstacle.

To the ppl who have left me anonymous reviews before chapter 6 and would like to continue reading my story, please email me and I will find a way to give you the goods. I know this isn't the best written story on the internet, as so many people have written several fics that totally kick Affair's ass. But this is one of my fics that I still actually enjoy writing; one where I don't need reviews to motivate me to update. If the fun of it is ruined for me, then what's the point in continuing? Any way, this is the path I've decided to take for now. If once I've cooled down and I decide to do the whole thing differently, then I will simply start posting here again. Until that time, read, review, and most importantly, enjoy! I'm sorry for any hard feelings that some of you might have towards me but, hey…whatever…we all cool down eventually, right?

**AN 2**: Wasn't that _really_ long and unnecessary? Well, you know now that I did calm down, and so here we are. By the way, if you're looking for a _great_ Harry/Tonks story, please read **CRACK**, by **SOLARIS DAY**! You can find it on and . Solaris emailed me her third chapter and I seriously can't wait until she posts it and starts writing chapter four.

As always please read, review, and most importantly…enjoy!

**

* * *

Chapter Seven **

Harry leaned further into the cool stone wall that silently supported his back. The moonlight hid only half of his face, leaving the other side exposed and vulnerable to any that might have happened across his path. That, however, was not a concern of his. It had been two weeks since he began frequenting this spot, and in all that time no one had come close to approaching his new found haven.

He expelled a deep gust of air and watched his breath condense into a thin slip of white mist. Harry looked down at his hand where his wand brushed reassuringly against his fingers. It would have been very easy to perform a heating spell, but he preferred the cold. The cold helped him stay focused. It kept him aware.

Fourteen days had passed since he ran out of Tonks' room. During that time neither of them had said a word to each other. After-hours training had come to an abrupt halt. There were no more late night trysts. There was barely any eye contact. Though she tried to feign indifference, he felt heavily concealed emotion simmering just beneath the surface. He didn't need three guesses to figure out what that emotion was.

Harry wouldn't blame Tonks if she never said another word to him. She had confided in him something of enormous weight and importance—something that would affect both of their lives. And at the first chance he got, he fled, leaving her to stare at him in shock and dismay. He was always angry at one person or another for treating him like a child, and there, in that one moment he had proved all of them right. An adult situation was very suddenly thrust upon him, leaving him to assume very adult responsibilities, and with his actions he showed her he couldn't handle the situation _or_ those responsibilities.

With those affirmed revelations, Harry surprised himself when he found that his feelings on the matter hadn't radically changed since he first found out she was pregnant. He was still scared shitless. Knowing that there was soon going to be someone that depended on him for everything was _still_ terrifying.

Skepticism was another recurring emotion that ran through his body. He was, as it were, extremely unsure about his capabilities as a father. But responding to things the way he did…

Harry needed to apologize to her and that was the end of it. Even though she was angry with him, he needed to let her know that he wouldn't abandon her. No matter what she decided he would stand by her decision. And though this thought brought on a hoard of guilt, Harry desperately wished that she wouldn't go through with it. He knew it was awful of him, but his fear aside, now was not the time to bring anyone into this world.

The wind rattling against the window abruptly pulled him out of his reflections. He was not disturbed by the sudden break in thought, however, as he had come to this conclusion many days ago. All he needed now was the courage to go through with his plan and actually talk to Tonks.

Someone somewhere must have been listening to his internal monologue because the one person that he was most afraid to see at that moment materialized right before his eyes.

* * *

Courage. 

To be courageous.

It was a simple expression, yet it entailed so much. For the past two weeks she had been the antithesis of the very word. Every time she had seen him, every time she had been given a chance to talk to him, she had quickly put on an air of nonchalance and went on her way. Underneath her show of indifference, however, was a swell of pain and embarrassment.

She had been foolish to think that Harry was anything more than a seventeen year old boy looking to have a good time. Actually, she had to correct herself. Harry _was_ more than a seventeen year old boy…in so many more ways than one. A blush slowly crept across her cheeks at that thought. She had been foolish to think that he was anything more than an average male who liked having good sex, but could very quickly detach himself from the experience.

She didn't blame him really. She was the one who let things go to the next level. _She_ was the one who ignored that voice in the back of her head that had warned her that she could be facing circumstances similar to the one that she was in right now if she wasn't careful.

Tonks tripped over a piece of broken stone, and fell. A curse floated lightly across the night air.

Springing up quickly—after all, this sort of thing did happen to her often—she brushed herself off and continued walking as though the fall had never occurred.

Courage wasn't the only thing she needed. Foot coordination wouldn't be half bad either. But she had never had that, so wishing for it to happen would be a waste of energy.

Tonks continued walking. He was around here somewhere and she knew if she searched long enough, she would find him. Paying closer attention to her steps, Tonks once again fell subject to her musings.

Harry cared for her, that much she knew. She wasn't sure how much of that extended beyond caring and towards actual love. Privately, she knew that she shouldn't have been lamenting over his feelings.Tonks knew how _she_ felt for him and _that_ was why she was doing this.

She stopped dead in her tracks. Not twenty paces from she stood, a silhouette of a young man stretched the length of the stone floor. Tonks looked hard, but she couldn't tell if the boy was wearing glasses.

_Courage_, she thought, and walked up to him. He turned exactly as she approached his position, and she could see from his expression that he was somewhat startled by her presence. Nervous and unsure she put on a mask of detachment to help herself speak to him.

"Where are you specs?" She said evenly.

It took him a moment to answer, as if he were trying to determine whether or not she was actually standing there.

Harry adjusted himself from his relaxed position and squinted his eyes. Clear vision quickly fell upon him as he mumbled a few words underneath his breath. Silently, he told himself to pull it together. Now was not the time to just sit and gape at her.

If only he could remember her question.

"I, uh…" Harry searched his mind. "Ron stepped on them earlier."

She didn't ask him why he hadn't simply fixed them and moved on. Instead, she told him that they needed to talk—at the very moment he said the same thing. They both laughed nervously as they eyed one anther.

"You first," Harry said softly.

How could she tell him what she had to say?

Just do it, Tonks told herself. Wasn't that what she was always telling Harry?

"I uh," she paused searching for the right words. "You don't have to worry about my situation anymore."

Harry, hands in pocket, couldn't help himself. He had to correct her.

"I was never worried about—"

"No listen to me." Tonks warily shook her head and planted her feet. This would be hard to tell him.

"You don't have to worry about the baby anymore." She kept her eyes firmly locked on her slippers. Sadly, she didn't have enough courage to watch him as he invariably figured out her unspoken words.

Harry, however, didn't think there was anything extra to consider.

'That's what I was going to tell you," he started, extending his hands. His eyes were bright with excitement and his face was soft with cheer. "I don't _want_ to think about—"

"No _listen_," Tonks said. Watching her feet fixedly, she took a deep breath before she continued. "You don't have to worry about the baby because…I'm not pregnant anymore."

Silence.

It stretched on for what seemed like forever. After an eternity, Tonks finally summed up enough nerve to meet his eyes. What she saw there both gladdened and saddened her at the same time. Was that relief that she saw on his face? If it was, then good. What she had to tell him next would be that much easier.

Harry didn't know why he wasn't feeling more relieved. Hadn't he secretly wished that she would tell him those exact words time and again for the past fourteen days?

Shock kept him from talking; kept him from blinking; it almost kept him from breathing.

"The whole situation made everything so complicated." Tonks sighed. "And you're too young to handle that kind of responsibility."

Harry found his voice at that comment; however his words weren't given a chance to be spoken.

"_I'm_ too young for that kind of responsibility." Tonks stared at him, preparing herself to express the rest of her well thought out speech.

"You as a person require _so_ much," she could feel herself breaking. But she couldn't shatter just yet. "But what you need isn't from me." Taking a deep breath to stop the tears that had began to fill her throat, she started again.

"Our relationship was beautiful," Tonks saw him open his mouth and moved closer to him so that she could place a finger over his lips. "But it should never have been." She couldn't stop herself from quickly caressing the side of his face. "Me getting pregnant just brought me out of the fantasy land that we've both been living in for this past year."

Tonks started to reach for his hands but quickly pulled back, telling herself that such an action wouldn't be wise at this point.

"And so Harry, I…I just…" she gave the ground a fleeting looking before returning his intense gaze. "I just wanted to tell you…goodbye."

He watched as she stared at him, waiting for him to say something. But this time, her words had truly rendered him speechless. He watched as she waited, and waited, and then started to turn away from him, eyes resolute. He watched as her carefully woven façade slipped for one moment, true pain radiating from her face.

He felt something within him break.

Harry closed the distance between them and grabbed her by the elbow, turning her around so that she faced him. He pushed her against the wall, his fingers digging painfully into her sides, and he kissed her. He kissed her with a desperation he hadn't felt since Sirius' death.

Tonks knew that it was wrong. She had finally conjured up enough guts to end things, and here it was she was being sucked right back into it. Literally. His lips were pulling on hers as if he was drowning, and kissing her mouth was the only thing that would save him. Harry's tongue worked unrelentingly against her own, and when she heard the deep guttural moan that escaped his throat, she knew that her staged goodbye was for naught.

Harry felt her arms wind around his neck. The feel of her fingers pulling on the dark tufts of his hair was reassuringly familiar. So much so, that he couldn't help the sigh that escaped his lips as he pulled away from her. They were both breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against hers.

The longer his mouth stayed away from hers the more she regained her senses.

"Harry we shouldn't—" was all she was able to get out before he once again pressed his lips against hers.

He didn't want to hear whatever it was she was going to tell him. He just wanted to feel. He wanted to make her feel as well. Harry squeezed her hips a bit harder as he lifted her. He was thankful when she wrapped her legs around his waist without any prodding from him.

Tonks could barely believe that she was responding to him this way, but the fact of the matter was he always made her feel good. A shiver coursed through her body as his fingers slipped beneath her top and cupped her breasts, his thumbs rubbing teasingly against her nipples. He pulled away from her mouth and ran his lips along the side of her neck, and all Tonks could do was squeeze her eyes tighter and suppress her moans as she lean her head against the wall.

Harry always thought his name sounded best when it came out of Tonks' mouth while she was in this state.

"Harry…_please_." She could hear the desperation in her voice, but she didn't know whether she was desperate for him to stop or desperate for him to continue.

Harry didn't need any further invitation. His fingers, which couldn't stop trembling, came up from out of her top and began the task of unbuttoning his pants. He stopped where he was on her neck and began kissing her on the mouth again.

She was lost in all that he was giving her until the sound of his zipper brought her out of her temporary insanity. This couldn't happen she realized. Not if she wanted to help him. Not if she wanted her plan to work.

Tonks pulled away from his kiss.

"Harry," her breathing was uneven. "Someone could see us here."

His hands were frenzied as he pulled at the tie on her pajama pants.

"I don't give a shit." He said, whispering and yelling at the same time.

Tonks tried to pull away from him, but her attempts were half-hearted at best. Harry was indeed her weakness. Perhaps she was his. That thought alone affirmed something within her; something that let her know for certain that the plan was still in route.

At that moment, he got the tie undone and pushed her pants down. Tonks sighed. She would enjoy herself this time. She would let herself have some last semblance of happiness before the final curtains came down on this act.

* * *

Ron dreamt. The dreams were disconnected, but clear. 

There was one that revealed Tonks and Dumbledore talking.

The background was painted gold.

He raised his eyebrows at that but said nothing as their hushed voices traveled through one ear and out the next.

Another showed Ginny smiling.

The background was painted gray.

Ron smiled back at her because he realized that she was happy.

His final dream bared Dean Thomas. Though there were no emotions visible on his face, he could feel his satisfaction. He felt his contentment. For those sunny thoughts, Ron gave him a hug. Anybody who could move beyond their parent's death deserved one in his book.

The background was painted green.

Ron sprang up from his bed. He looked around his room and calmed his breathing when he realized where he was. The heads of Neville, Seamus, and Dean poked out from underneath their covers. Where was Harry, he wondered. A smile slowly formed on his lips as he realized what his best friend must have been doing at this very moment and with whom he was doing it. A little bit calmer, Ron started to ease himself back into a lying position as he pulled his sheets back over his chest.

He paused.

There was a layer of moisture on the very edge of his sheets. He saw, upon closer inspection, that his sweaty palms had been the culprit. The sheet was crinkled there as well, as if he had been gripping the cotton material exceptionally hard. His brow creased in confusion. Ron could remember his dreams very clearly. Although the content was undeniably strange, he had been comfortable with them because they were pleasant.

He looked at his fingers again.

They were quivering ever so slightly.

Question after question sprang into his mind, but the one that kept repeating itself time and again asked: if his dreams had been so lovely, why then was he reacting as if he'd just had a nightmare?

**

* * *

AN 3:** Was it a little too dramatic? I was going for heartfelt emotion. Let me know what you like and dislike. Maybe I should add this now. No flames please. Thank you!!!! 

**Remember**: Embrace the ship of Tonks and Harry forever!!!

Was it a little too dramatic? I was going for heartfelt emotion. Let me know what you like and dislike. Maybe I should add this now. No flames please. Thank you!!!! 


	8. Chapter Eight

**Author**: J.A.K.

**Rating**: R

**Author's Notes**: This story starts in the middle of Tonks and Harry's relationship. There will be a few flashbacks alluding to situations and events that happened in the past between the two, but I felt it best to start here because the crux of this story lies in them _being_ together not in how they _came_ to be together. I also wanted to warn everyone that this is a darker Harry; less like the one written in books 1 through 4 and more like the Harry written in book 5.

**AN 2**: This chapter comes after an EXTREME case of writer's block. Actually it was more like writer's snag. I knew what I wanted to write but it seemed like nothing I wrote captured how I wanted to convey my characters. And yes, even though I know that these are JKR's and Scholastic's character's by law, when I write stories I tend to make the different people my own. To Steve: whatever dude. I hope you enjoy this chapter b/c it's going to be one of many more to come. To those of you who would like to check out my live journal or perhaps put yourself on my friends list you can find me at livejournal dot com/users/kallie1385. Also, don't forget to check out Crack by Solarisday which can be found at ff dot net.

Please read, review, and most importantly enjoy!

**Chapter Eight**

Draco's knowledge of the muggle world was as vast as the depths of a thimble. Though he often prided himself on his superior intelligence concerning most matters, the aforementioned was a subject that he gladly chose to accept ignorance. The only muggle invention he had ever found to be of true value was the increasingly addictive fags. Their scent was intoxicating, their affect was immediate.

Draco took another long drag and felt his previous anxieties blowing away with the exhaled smoke. Tapping it a bit, to get rid of excess cinders, he slowly crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall adjacent to the window he was staring out of.

It had been more than three months and he _still_ hadn't gotten anything, information or otherwise, that could be deemed as useful against the enemy. Draco paused in his musings and looked over his shoulder at the girl who lay sleeping in his borrowed bed. Confusion settled on his face. The girl was undeniably a Weasley; her bright red hair, which was starkly visible against the alabaster sheets, proved that. Arthur Weasley had always been one of his father's enemies; Ron Weasley would always be one of his. But was this girl, one who had quickly become less of an irritation and more of a tolerance, "_the enemy_"?

Questions like these plagued his mind most nights. They were the cause of his insomnia, which was in turn, the cause of his ill tempered moods. He had never been one to ask too many questions, always aware that inquiries of any type were reserved for those who were either know-it-all's or wastrels.

Draco was neither.

He was a Malfoy. His name had and would always define his essential character.

He paused again, inhaling even deeper this time.

But did the name Malfoy define the core of who he was?

Draco glared sullenly at the still figure who was all but mocking him with her inviting pose, and turned his attention back to the arms of a more welcoming night.

His questioning mind hadn't been the only cause for his sleep impoverished nights. Post coital intimacy had and would never be one of his finer points. He enjoyed the act well enough, but snuggling up with _anyone_ after said act would be like him giving his father a hug—wrong on both ends and extremely awkward. Draco preferred the distance. Solitude, even as incomplete as it was now, was comforting.

Abruptly, he was pulled out of his musings. But this time it was not of his own volition. Two thin arms had wrapped themselves around his waist, a warm body pressed against his back. Draco did not return the embrace. Instead he continued smoking his fag annoyed by the sudden invasion of space.

Ginny sighed pressing her face against his left shoulder blade.

"_Must_ you smoke those god-awful things.?"

Draco lightly snorted in response, his face the perfect example of composure.

"I must," was his short reply.

She slowly pushed up the thin cotton shirt he was wearing and swept her fingers over his abdomen. His muscles tensed slightly. Ginny stopped her actions, becoming a bit more serious.

"The warnings on the box say that they can kill you and from what I read, they're a slow and painful death."

Draco shook his head, more amused by her statement than anything. He craned his neck slightly so he could make out her eyes.

"And I suppose I should be touched by your concern."

She pulled away from him with a jerk. The action wasn't too sudden, but it was enough to let him know that he had somehow managed to hurt her feelings. Draco turned back to the window, took a final drag, then put his dying fag out. He did the entire act while stifling a sigh of irritation.

Ginny had, in a few short months, become a pro at lying to herself. In the interim of that time, moments such as these arose when she wished fervently that the world could be a simpler place. That people like Draco didn't exist; a person whom she wanted desperately to hate but couldn't in spite of everything that he had done. Ginny sighed as she made her way back to the bed.

Although she had been and was continuing to do an excellent job of fooling herself, in spite of that, she was no fool. Ever since her first-year encounter at Hogwarts, when her strings had been pulled by the puppeteers who'd turned out to be the senior most Malfoy and the Dark Lord himself, she had always stayed wary of the intentions of others.

Draco was no different.

His father served the Dark Lord and he would, unequivocally, remain loyal to their side, as she would always remain loyal to hers. Nothing he said or did could ever change her position on that particular matter. That very same affirmation had made her long since realize that nothing she could ever say or do would change his. She sighed again as Draco moved his way behind her and snuck his arms around her waist. The truth was, Draco was probably using her to find out whatever information he could to please his father. A small knowing smile formed on her lips. The truth _also_ remained that she was using him as well. Not for the same reasons, but he was useful in helping her keep her mind off of the historical events that were taking shape right outside the walls of Hogwarts.

Hermione and Ron had always had each other to help deal with that. And up until recently, she had thought that Harry leaned on their friendship as well. Now she knew that Harry had come to find comfort in another type of relationship.

That thought somehow gave her a hard slap back into reality.

"Draco no," she said spinning around in his arms. She shoved him a bit, and walked over to where her clothes lay on the floor. "All we've been doing for weeks now is fuck each others brains out." Ginny hooked the clasp of her bra and pulled on her pants, sliding the zipper up and fastening her button. "That was good for me a few hours ago," she turned to face him as she closed the final clip on her sweater. "But it doesn't work for me right now." She strolled passed him, her shoulder brushing his. "Not when I can't continue pretending that we have something real anyway."

Ginny had not meant for him to hear. Her words had been muttered softly underneath her breath. Somehow, however, he had heard everything.

His grip was viselike around her wrist as he caught the limb of her retreating form. In a matter of seconds she was facing him, his eyes hard and unmoving.

"What do you mean when you say 'not when you can't pretend we have something real?'" Ginny had no desire to voice her emotions, but something in his face read: challenge. She wrenched her hand out of his. "I _mean_ that when we're in the throes of passion at least _then_ I can pretend that what we share is special, that it's worth taking all your bullshit and lying to my friends. But in the end I'm wrong. I've always been wrong. However much you help in taking my mind off this goddamn war, is all negated by the fact that you are an insufferable _git_." Ginny's outburst was unexpected, even to herself, and she abruptly cut short whatever else she was going to say.

Draco was slightly caught off guard by her words; being who he was, however, he quickly recovered.

_So_, he reasoned, this mouse not only had a spine, but she also had a brain. She hadn't let herself get as deeply entrenched in his lies and half-truths as he'd thought she had. Well, at least now he knew. Realizing that, however, was not what currently incensed his ire. What really enraged him was the comprehension that not only had his words been virtually ineffective, but that she'd been using him as equally as he'd been using her.

Ginny saw his surprise and relished it. One didn't get too many chances to render Draco speechless, and every silent second was like a victory cry to her. She couldn't help the smile that formed on her lips.

"I really don't know why you have such a smug looking grin on your face when all you've done is state the obvious. So you can just go ahead and wipe that off, take your things, and get the fuck out." Draco didn't have the time or the energy to go into another long and drawn-out argument about what the meaning of their relationship was, in so being he decided to preempt any further words on her part by proverbially shutting her down.

Ginny had become use to his insalubrious outbursts and didn't feel in the slightest way cowed by his exclamation.

She stepped forward enough so that her face was almost touching his.

"You know, it's sad really when people have to mask how they're feeling by throwing disagreeable and might I add childish temper tantrums."

Draco simply stepped back and rolled his eyes, tired of hearing these same old words coming out of her mouth. He crossed his arms over his chest showing her how very boring he found her to be at the moment.

"Well...don't you have anything to say about your foul behavior?"

Draco lifted his shoulders in a movement that was far to refined to be called a shrug.

"Yawn," he deadpanned, eyes unwavering.

Ginny threw her hands in the air, unimpressed by his antics but wary of them all the same. She turned around and picked up her bag which lay lonely and forgotten by the nightstand, and readied herself to depart.

"Draco, before I go, let me leave you with a bit of knowledge that you've probably been lacking up until this point."

He sighed exaggeratedly.

"Must you?"

Ginny gritted her teeth to prevent herself from screaming the expletives that were currently running through her head. Instead, she quickly put the sack over her back and stepped closer to him until she was standing but a few paces from his reach.

"As _unpleasant_, and _manipulative_, and _malicious_ as you are," Draco readied himself for what she would say next. He opened his mouth in mock preparation, assured that he could follow her words by heart; after all, many girls before her had said the same things. All of them convinced that he was merely misunderstood; and all of them overtly wrong.

"I assure you that I can be _just_ as _unpleasant_ and _manipulative_ **_and_** _malicious,_ so don't you fucking think that you can say whatever the hell you want to me and get off scott free.

Draco felt a smile forming on the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, you mean like the fact that I have to pretend I'm seeing Phylis Baraff's face every time I fuck you."

Ginny knew that Draco was skilled at using words as a weapon. She had also found that whenever he was confounded or unresolved by a particular subject, that he used said words to make the other person give a hasty retreat and leave him alone. Unfortunately those rational thoughts were the last things to flash in her mind as her hand swung back and slapped him hard in the face.

"I hope the next time you're whining like a bitch in heat that you go to Phylis Baraff, and let her relieve you." His smile promptly flew off of his mouth at her words, but Ginny's back was already turned. She didn't see the dark expression that formed in his eyes or the violence that strongly emanated from his form.

At that moment, Draco wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around her neck. His fingers itched with the desire to carry out his impulse, but he contained himself. The last thing he ever wanted to do was become his parents, in any capacity. There was many a night—or day even—when he had walked in on his parents fighting. Their fights had always resulted in his father beating the shit out his mother. Of all the terrible things that he had done and of all the more terrible things he was destined to do, beating a woman would not be one of them—that he had promised himself since childhood.

He fisted his fingers and stalked over to the stand where his precious fags lay. He violently pulled one out and lit it with his wand. In another few quick angry strides he was by the window again, puffing away like an overworked train. Draco didn't look back to the person who stood behind him. When the door nearly flew off its hinges, he cursed her underneath his breath for probably waking all of Hogwarts. As he brought the fag to his lips again, he dimly processed that his fingers were trembling.

Draco leaned against the wall, studying the planet Venus as she revealed herself against the early morning dusk. He had been dangerously close to losing control. His father had taught him that in the face of one's enemy, one must never give away that power. Battles were won and lost based on that premise, and on this late night, he had very nearly lost.

In his previous relationships, when things had escalated to this point, he would end it right then and there. But this was different. He had been assigned a task; one which he would complete by any means possible.

Draco continued to study the sky. He was at the end of his fag, catching the last rings of nicotine and preparing himself to snatch a few hours of sleep, when a shape caught his eye. The shape was modeled like a star, but infinitely more familiar. As he continued to squint against the bluish hues of the heavens, reason finally came to mind as he figured out exactly what he was staring at. There, in the early morning sky, like a testament of doom, was the dark mark.

So he reasoned, Voldemort had actually gone through with it. Tranquility flowed through his body as he waited for the alarm bells to be sounded in Hogwarts; as he waited for the rest of the world to realize that the Final War had begun.

* * *

Hermione felt the heavy book fall on her face and instantly sprung awake. Grumbling incoherently under her breath, she conceded to her body's wishes and busied herself with the task of preparing for bed. 

The final tests of the semester were quickly approaching and as always she wanted to have a head start in her studies. Every year since her first one here at Hogwarts she had done this. Now however, was the first time that she felt totally and completely overwhelmed. The O.W.L's had been a major source of anxiety during her fifth year, but that anxiety was nothing to what she felt now every time she thought of her N.E.W.T's. Those particulat exams would be the determinant for what she did for the rest of her life.

Hermione stopped her actions to gaze at the rising sun. Watching the stars and clouds roll and reshape into new forms had always been a calming agent when she felt this kind of panic. Silently she focused on the star that didn't twinkle and realized dimly that it was a planet. Tranquility washed over her as she leaned her head against the cool glass of the window. Being Head Girl had its benefits. For one, her odd studying habits wouldn't disturb her roommates, like they had for the past six years. The other was that no one would question behaviors such as the one she was currently displaying. Granted, if she were sharing a room with other girls, she would most likely be the only one awake, but just so. Having no one other than yourself for company was sometimes comforting.

Hermione stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. Time for bed she thought as she made to turn away from the window.

Though her mind was foggy, her eyes were still sharp, which explained why she lingered at the window pane, squinting against the morning's dim light. After staring at nothing for several moments she shrugged, deciding that perhaps it was just a trick of the light. Wait, a voice told her. All will be revealed if you stay just a second longer.

And to her horror she could see why. Hermione befell a sight which she had only seen once in her fourth year, but one that she would not forget for decades to come.

There, not too far from school grounds, was the Dark Mark shining in all its malevolent glory. Hermione felt a wave of apprehension wash over her at what the Mark's appearance meant. He had come out from hiding. From here on in he would carry out his death sentence's himself.

Hermione quickly grabbed a top and ran for her door.

Someone had to inform Ron and Harry of what had just occurred. Someone had to tell them the war which they had all dreaded happening, had begun.

_

* * *

It was all falling apart. Every facet of every lie that they'd ever told to the world was crumbling around them and now all they had was each other. The fact that it took all this time to come to that oblique understanding was a twist so ironical that it almost took Harry's breath away. Things had been said and done between the two of them. Words could never be taken back, and pride was the only emotion that kept him standing. Pride in his control. Pride in his approach to everything that had been thrust upon him thus far. _

_Pride kept him from her._

_Tonks gave Harry a wary but measuring look. He was as aloof as he had ever been with her. The presence of his nonchalance almost brought her to her knees. Before, when he'd cared, his emotions—whether they'd been need, lust, or anger—had dictated his actions enough to assure her that he still thought well of her. But within the last week, and especially within the last few days, his stoicism was the only face he'd shown her. A determined set to his jaw matched the dispassion in his eyes, as if he were silently telling her that he knew exactly how he was acting and he wanted her to know it too. He wanted her to know that his behavior was deliberate. Perhaps everything they'd shared, everything that they'd ever had was truly lost._

_Perhaps they'd never had anything at all._

_His legs were sprawled, his composure relaxed, all of which contrasted with the turmoil he felt inside of him. Harry wanted so much to hold her to talk to her, but again pride kept him from getting up, kept his tongue still. _

_So he waited._

_And she waited too. After all, the depth of her pride was one to be equally measured against that of Harry's. They were both hurt, they were both sorry, but neither of them was willing to admit it to the other._

_Harry's gaze swept from her face to her stomach and back again. The way the material of her sleeping gown hung on her breasts, which were slightly fuller now, then curved to match the sloping angles of her body made his body stir. They hadn't touched each other in two months…hadn't had sex in three. He wanted her, a fact which was inescapable. But there was more to it than that. He wanted to hear her say it first. He wanted her to tell him that she was wrong. That she had always been wrong._

_Then again he had been wrong too._

_And she wanted him to hear him say it. He was always the first to apologize, why should now be any different. Tonks got up from where she sat, perched against her desk and made her way to him. _

_If the war started tomorrow, if the war started tonight, now was probably all they had. The thought reconciled her previous musings and moved her. She was older than him. She was the adult. She would take the first step._

Tonks awoke with a startled gasp.

Her dream was one of a succession of nightmares that had been abusing her mind for the past several days. They tortured her with whispered visions of a future that could never be…of a reality that would never come to pass; because certain things had been done that could not be undone. The ball had been put into motion and nothing short of a catastrophe could ever undo them.

Fate again must have been laughing at her, as it was simply too ironic that she should come upon those thoughts at the very moment in which the catastrophe of which she'd just contemplated, had indeed taken place.

* * *

**AN 3**: All questions, wanderings, and misgivings about this chapter will be cleared up in the following update. And by the way...Happy New Year!!!!!!!!!!!! 


	9. Chapter Nine

**Author**: J.A.K.

**Rating**: R

**Author's Notes**: This story starts in the middle of Tonks and Harry's relationship. There will be a few flashbacks alluding to situations and events that happened in the past between the two, but I felt it best to start here because the crux of this story lies in them _being_ together not in how they _came_ to be together. I also wanted to warn everyone that this is a darker Harry; less like the one written in books 1 through 4 and more like the Harry written in book 5.

**AN 2: **Sorry about the long delay. School has and still is kicking my butt. Summer was hectic, and after reading HBP, I really had no clue as to where my stories could go. However, I'll try to work with whatever plot ideas I had before July 15th and integrate them (a little) with what has transpired in the 6th book. Please note that this interlude was written well before HBP. Please read, review, and most importantly enjoy!

**

* * *

Chapter 9—Interlude I **

No one dared stare too long at each other during breakfast that morning. Too much had happened within the past few hours. Looking at someone too hard might have made all the despair that everyone felt rise to the fore.

Kingsley was dead. Williamson was dead. Hermione glanced at the place where Ron usually sat. It was empty. Under her lashes she watched Harry, but he seemed to be in another world. She presumed that his mind was on Tonks, who would have been dead had she followed through on her orders and not spent the night with him. Thank God Tonks hadn't died. If she had, who knew what type of state Harry would be in right now. Perhaps the same condition Ron was in after finding out that his brother had been one of the unlucky few to carry out the Orders ill fated mission.

Hermione stared at the banana that lay in front of her and tried to take a bite. Every time she made to swallow however, the slimy fruit slid up her throat. Quickly snatching a napkin she placed it over her mouth and surreptitiously spit out the chewed up substance. Resignedly she got up, foregoing further attempts to eat, and went behind Harry.

"I think it's safe to go check on Ron now," Hermione's mind flashed to when her friend had first heard the news, and how he had screamed and cried and had pitched everything within arms length across the room. "Are you going to be alright?"

Harry's eyes were still a bit red rimmed from crying. He had been closer to the Weasley brothers than she ever was and so this loss had come as a harder blow to him. Harry nodded at her question thinking how ridiculous she was being for fussing over him. She had already given him a shoulder to cry on. Now her comfort would be much better seen in the arms of someone who really needed her.

Hermione turned to leave but Harry caught her hand.

"Take care of him, okay?" Harry's eyes were so intense and sincere that her heart swelled with all the love that she felt for him. Hermione bent down and hugged him as tightly as she could, dimly aware that they were probably attracting all kinds of unwanted attention.

She pulled back a bit, but not from his embrace. "You're my boys and I'm always going to take care of both of you." If Harry was at all surprised by Hermione's uncharacteristic show of affection he didn't let on. He simply nodded his head and allowed her to kiss him above the brow. "I'll be with Dora if you need me."

Hermione tipped her head, giving a silent okay, still mystified that her seventeen year old best friend and DADA teacher were on level that permitted him calling her "Dora," and turned to leave. As she made her way towards the door, she couldn't help but see the many pairs of eyes that were on her. Only some people knew what had just happened, but most of the students in the Great Hall were mystified by what could have caused not only classes to be cancelled but all the teachers of Hogwarts to be absent from the Head Table as well. Now with her, the Head Girl leaving, that left only Draco and a handful of school prefects in charge.

They would find out soon enough Hermione decided as she pulled on the brass knobs. The whole world would find out soon enough.

* * *

**AN 3**: All questions, wanderings, and misgivings about this chapter will be cleared up in the following update. Always remember to embrace the ship of Harry and Tonks! Till the next update. 


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